Running in the Shadows
by 10Stargazer01
Summary: Cordelia and Misty were never sisters, even though they have spent their whole lives together - ever since that day Cordelia stumbled upon a wild child in the swamps. Misty possesses special powers that have her banished from her family, but she finds home with Cordelia. And she might be the only one who can handle Cordelia's demons. AU, Foxxay.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hey there! Anyone else excited for AHS Hotel? Personally I'm still a bit stuck on the foxxay, so in the spirit of the upcoming release, here's a multi chapter fic that's all about the foxxay. And other people. You're in for a bit of a slow burn, but I do hope you'll be patient with me. Fluff will come when the time is right.**

 **Disclaimer: I own no characters, settings or alligators, but boy I wish I did.**

 **On that note, I would like to add, that there will be some horror and some opinions expressed by characters that I promise you I do not share. Just getting into character, but I thought I'd say it explicitly for good measure. Anyway, I'll stop rambling now and get on with it. As always, I would love to hear what you think of it and please enjoy!**

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 **Part 1**

" **And the songbirds are singing, like they know the score."**

 **\- Songbird, Fleetwood Mac**

"Burn the witch!"

They crowd was roaring like thunder attacking from the ground and not the sky. They encircled the scene, chanting and shouting, some in anger, some out of fright. In their midst stood three men all staring at a desperate woman enclosed with them. She kneeled before them, clutched a small child in her arms. The child looked around with fearsome eyes and she hid from the faces of the angry crowd. The crackling of an evolving fire behind the circle made the music that steadied their deafening chants.

The man in the middle, an old priest with white wispy hair and wrinkles around his hard eyes, stood out. He moved with calm and with a hand raised in the air, he silenced the thunder of their voices. He looked at the frantic woman before him. "Miss Day, rise."

"No _please_ father", she whimpered. She stayed down on her knees and looked up at him with a face twisted in the purest of despair. "I'm beggin' you, don't burn her. Not my child. Please father, she's just a little girl! She can't help it!"

"She has brought the devil to us. She's a _witch_!" He spat the last word at her like it was poison on his tongue.

"She only healed Norma's little boy. He'd be dead, if she hadn't helped him! Please, she means no harm!"

Only half the crowd could hear the exchange of words. It was a large circle. It was growing impatient and a man shouted: "Burn the witch!" which rallied up the rest and they started over.

"Please father, there must be another way!" She inched closer to the old priest, difficult as it was, moving on her knees while holding her child tight into her, as if she feared the battle was lost the second she let go. It could very well be. Her words drowned in the violent noises and only the priest, at whose feet she trembled, could hear them. "Father, listen please. She's your _son's_ child. As your grandchild, how can her powers be anythin' but divine?"

The priest's eyes widened at this, such a faint twitch it went unnoticed by everyone but the pleading woman. With a furious twist of his old, wrinkled hand, he silenced the crowd again. Neither of them noticed how the color had drained from his face.

When silence came upon the scene, he said, in a clear voice that betrayed none of the sudden shock: "Once she bleeds her powers will grow. That's when the devil inevitably latches on. Don't you think, son?" He regarded the man on his right for the first time. The young man jumped and he hesitated before meeting his father's gaze.

"Son?" There was anger wavering in his voice.

With a quiet, quivering voice, he answered: "Or her ability will disintegrate as she matures."

The priest sneered, turned to look again at his bastard witch child of a granddaughter and to her mother.

Loud enough that the whole circle could hear him, he yelled: "I will not have this child in my town! I will not have her bones in my graveyard! I want her out! Misty Day is from today forth banished from this town! You" – he pointed at the man in the left – "will see to that she's left in the forest. From then on her destiny is her own. If she lives or dies that is up to her, but anyone who helps her will be executed by the word of God!"

The woman cried as the man on the left crossed over and pried the child from her arms. Without a word of goodbye, he carried the child that was Misty Day deep into the woods and left her there.

O0O

A year had gone by since the banishment of Misty day. Cordelia sprinted through the wilderness, ran as fast as her little feet could carry her, eyes scanning the forest for a way out. Twilight was settling into the spaces between the trees, the noises of the night was emerging from the depth of the forest. These woods were no place for an eight year old, especially not one who wasn't born here and hadn't gotten used to the Louisiana swamps. Cordelia knew that and she regretted more than ever running away from her mom. Now she was completely lost. Why did all trees look the same?

Her foot caught in a root, sticking up from the uneven ground and she fell down with all her rush poured into it. Her dress ripped apart as the sharp rocks on the ground tore into it and the smooth, fragile skin beneath it. Cordelia cried out in pain. Her whole body trembled as she sat up and she looked at her hands, now a colorful palette of blood red and earth tones of dirt and dust. At least she hadn't fallen in the wet area. Out where the real swamps were. She might just drown in the mud. At least she was on dry land and the edge had to be close. Cordelia just had no idea which way was home.

She started crying.

Noise. To her left something appeared in between the trees. It made the girl stop crying, only to freeze to the spot with fear instead. She had no idea what kind of creatures lurked in these woods, but her mom had made sure to tell her all kinds of scary tales, like how alligators sometimes crawled up from the waters to eat those who strayed too far. What other animals lived here? She was new in the state. It could be a puma for all she knew.

It would have to be a small puma. And it didn't stride with elegance, the way any cat would. It had bouncy steps and a weirdly shaped figure for a feline. It was hard to see in the growing dark, but Cordelia was starting to think it was no foreign animal at all. It looked… human?

Whatever it was, it was being very careful. It hopped a few steps, then stopped and gazed at her. As it came closer, Cordelia, to her immense dread, thought it had a mane. Her mind skipped through a number of scenarios involving feral, murderous monkeys taking her away. Only the mane turned out to be a chaotic mess of muddy, dirty human hair. It was child closing in and it was now only half a dozen feet from her.

It looked like a little girl. Cordelia started to calm down. It _was_ a little girl, younger than herself even. More than that was almost impossible to tell, as the girl was covered in mud. She was so dirty her clothes and skin couldn't be told apart. She was crouching and walking on four legs with her back rounded like a scared cat.

"Hello there", Cordelia called out. The little girl bared her teeth in a feral growl and her clear blue eyes locked on Cordelia's. There was a certain quality of strength to her stare. And she looked so strange with her teeth and eyes being the only features that wasn't completely clouded with dirt.

"It's okay. I won't hurt you. Where's your mommy?"

The little girl cocked her head to the side as soon as Cordelia spoke, if listening for her voice.

"What's your name?" Cordelia asked and the girl's eyes glimmered with what Cordelia thought was curiosity. She took a few hopping steps closer, seemingly over her initial fright. Only a few feet away, Cordelia could now take a closer look at her. She wore something that might once have been a knee length dress, but it was so torn that only a few strands of dirty fabric hung below her tiny thighs. She looked skinny, so skinny that Cordelia thought it a wonder she managed to hop around with so much energy. But there was strength in her body as well. She didn't appear weak in any way.

She didn't say anything, but studied Cordelia intensely. There was nothing frightening about her after all, but Cordelia was starting to think that she wasn't a normal girl. That she had been out here a very long time and hadn't just recently gotten lost from her mom's sight, the way she herself had. There was a wildness to the child, which Cordelia had never seen before; something that told her, maybe this little girl _lived_ out here in the woods.

She spoke again, keeping her tone light, because it appeared to intrigue the child: "My name is Cordelia. I'm sorry if I scared you. I just got lost and I fell down." She held up her palms to show the little girl. The girl looked curiously at her hands and then her eyes wandered up and down Cordelia, from head to toe, nothing missed. Cordelia had never felt so studied before. The girl's eyes went to her knees and widened. Cordelia followed her gaze and realized blood had stained her ruined dress. Her heart sunk in her chest. Her mom would be so mad at her, when she found this out.

The little girl looked at her with an expression that seemed to be asking some kind of question. She looked from Cordelia's face to her knee and then back again. Cordelia didn't understand at first, but she didn't push her away, when the girl stretched out a mud-covered hand and lifted up her dress. Cordelia hissed in pain when the little girl touched the wound, and the girl flinched at the sound, but didn't move away. A look of concentration had come upon the her face and Cordelia was too mystified to do anything. She only watched as the girl stared at her wound. Without breaking contact, she spit in her hands, cleaning the palms until something vaguely resembling a real skin color emerged from the dirt. Then she put her hand on the wound. Cordelia whimpered at the sharp pain, but this time the girl didn't move an inch. Instead she closed her eyes and all of a sudden warmth blossomed underneath her filthy hands. It was a soothing warmth, one that reminded Cordelia of soft blankets and a hot cup of tea.

When the girl removed her hands, there was no wound, only milky, soft skin, where the cuts had been. Cordelia stared wide eyed from her knee to the girl.

"How did you do that?"

She received no answer. Instead the little, mysterious girl held out her hands. Instinctively Cordelia did the same. The girl spit in those too, cleaning away the dirt and took one hand in each. The skin of her palms felt rough against Cordelia's own, but a moment later, all she felt was that same warmth. When the girl opened her eyes again and let go of Cordelia, her hands were as good as new.

"Wow." She looked up. "Thank you."

The girl smiled.

"Who are you?" Neither this time did she get any answer out of the girl. Cordelia started to wonder, if she had a voice at all. Only she growled before, she remembered. Maybe she had never learned to speak, being out here.

Cordelia started to get up. The little girl gripped her hand and looked at her with a sad expression.

"I have to get home. Out of the forest. Do you know what way it is?"

The girl thought for a moment it seemed. Then she looked up and nodded.

"So you do understand me. Can you show me the way?"

The girl nodded again and started hopping ahead. Cordelia hurried after her.

O0O

Delphine stood at the edge of the path, Cordelia had disappeared from, looking in through the trees in hopes of spotting the puerile little girl. She walked a little up and down the line of the forest, glancing in between the massive trees. It was getting dark now and it had been half an hour since she saw the figure of the little girl running into the woods. Delphine shook her head and sighed. Young Cordelia knew better than to wander into unknown territory like this. If only Madame hadn't yelled at her, Delphine wouldn't find herself in this horrific situation. She couldn't return home without Mrs. Goode's daughter, but she couldn't go in there and look for her herself. It was no use getting lost too.

"Oh you foolish girl", she muttered. She anticipated Madame's wrath. Hell had no fury like Fiona Goode. Gods, she knew that. She wished Fiona had brought Spalding out here. He was better with the patience. Of course there would be a chance the girl would run straight back into the woods, when she saw his face.

It was at times like these she wished to just quit her job as Mrs. Goode's maid. What kind of honor was there is this, given where she had been only a decade ago? Back then she was the one living in a mansion, having servants, fighting people like Fiona for the spot at the top. One little trick out of a filthy Voodoo queen's pocket and her fortune was gone and she was left to wash dishes for the rest of her life. Left to shut up about it if she wished to have her daughter freed from enslavement. Sometimes she wondered if it was really worth it. Her fine ancestors were turning in their graves, she was sure of it. She herself was out of the Laveau house now, thanks to Fiona Goode. Truth be told these conditions were far better, cleaner people. A shy, lost daughter and a bitter Madame was much preferable to being locked in a wooden box in the ground whenever she misbehaved. God, she despised Fiona, but Marie Laveau was far worse.

"Delphine!"

Delphine turned her head at the first sound of the girl. She emerged from the darkened forest some hundred feet down. Delphine held up her dress and ran towards the girl.

Some animal appeared to walk beside her. A rather curious animal at that. As she came closer, Delphine realized it was a human child. The dirtiest child she had ever seen. And Laveau's kids were _black_.

"Heavens child, you scared me half to death! What is this vile creature, you have dragged with you? And what happened to your dress? Your mother will have my head on a plate for this!"

"I'm so sorry Delphine, I'm sorry I ran away!" Cordelia looked up at her with a painstaking look in her mismatched eyes.

Delphine sighed. "As long as you're okay. Well?" She eyed the dirty child, crouching beside Cordelia. One of its hands snuck up to Cordelia's and remarkable blue eyes scrutinized Delphine from top to bottom.

"Well, I… I don't know her name, but she found me in the woods and… She helped me out. I don't think she has a mom. Please Delphine, can she come home with us? She's really hungry."

She did strike Delphine as an abandoned child, with her dirty, bony body and that God-awful mess of a hair. It baffled Delphine that such child was even alive. It was obvious that he was outrageously underfed. Still, her eyes betrayed no energetic shortcomings. She appeared healthy.

"How do you know she's hungry, if she cannot speak?"

"She showed me." Cordelia looked down at the child, who pointed a finger to her open mouth and shot Delphine a pleading look.

Delphine sighed, puzzled. Madame would certainly not like a guest of this quality – frankly, she didn't like guests at all – but who was she to tell a mistreated child to just go away? And it could be scrubbed, made presentable this one. She saw how the child clung to Cordelia's hand, while eyeing her closely. If Delphine didn't know better, she would think the child was challenging her, daring her to say no.

"Fine. She can come. But your mother will not appreciate this."

O0O

When they finally arrived at the mansion, after a five-minute drive, the little girl was all but frozen in fear. She had gone willingly into the car with Cordelia, but as soon as it started, she shrieked in panic and tried to crawl out again. She couldn't get the door open though. Cordelia quickly realized she had never been in a car before. It took a while to calm her down enough for Cordelia to put a seatbelt on her. Another thing for which the girl seemed to hold a deep mistrust. Now that they had safely parked at home, the girl was trembling in her seat, her skinny fingers gripping Cordelia's hand so tightly she could barely feel her own fingers.

"Come on, we're here." Cordelia opened the door and pulled at the girl. She eyed the outsides with a suspicious look in her sky blue eyes, before jumping out after Cordelia. She landed on all four and walked like that beside Cordelia, keeping her pace. Delphine walked up behind them, scoffing.

"Can't she walk properly?"

"I don't know." Cordelia stopped and so did the girl. "Can you walk like this? Like me?" The girl cocked her head to the side. Cordelia held out a hand, which she took without hesitation, and Cordelia tried to drag her up to a standing position. The girl shakily rose to her feet, now grasping both Cordelia's outstretched hands for support. As she stood in her full height, she was one head shorter than her supporter was.

"Now try walking. Come on." She did. With trembling steps, as if she hadn't walked like this in ages, the wild child started walking. She got all the way up to the door, all the while clinging to Cordelia's hand, and earning an examining look from Delphine. Cordelia was somehow mesmerized by the child clutching her hand, as if she never wanted to let go again, and doing everything Cordelia told her, as if nothing had ever made greater sense to her. No one had ever done that before.

Once they made it to the steps and Cordelia had to use her hands to open the door, the girl crouched down again.

As soon as they opened the door, her mom came striding down the hallway, her blonde hair flying and her eyes sparkling with lightning.

"There you are finally! Christ child, what possessed you to run away like that? Look at you! Your best dress is completely ruined and – what is _that_?"

Her eyes fell on the child, crouching by Cordelia's side, and now staring right back at Cordelia's mom with her lips parted in a half sneer. Fiona looked from her daughter to Delphine with a perplexed, slightly disgusted expression.

"Well? Delphine, explain what this pile of dried mud is doing in my home."

Cordelia answered before Delphine had a chance: "She found me, mommy. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to run so far away, but I got lost and this girl helped me out again. She's really hungry, can she please stay for dinner?"

"Absolutely not!"

"Mommy, she saved me!" Cordelia insisted, begging with her eyes and words. The child stretched up a hand and caught Cordelia's again. Then yanked it a bit, as she stood beside her. "Mom, look at her, she must be starving. And I don't think she has anyone."

Fiona sighed. "I guess Delphine can make a little extra. But clean her up first. She's not getting anywhere near my living room looking like that. And she's your responsibility!"

Cordelia bowed her head. "Of course mom."

Fiona waved Delphine off to the kitchen and directed her gaze at the child again. "What's your name?" The girl said nothing, but stared back with what Cordelia thought was cautious curiosity.

"Well speak child!" Fiona demanded impatiently.

"I don't think she can, Mommy."

"Wonderful. You brought a _mute_ stray home. Don't we have enough of those?"

Fiona shook her head, turned on her heel and left. The clicking of her heels echoed through the hall. Cordelia tugged at the child's hand and lead her to the bathroom.

"And don't let her wear your nice dresses!"

The bathtub seemed to be something she enjoyed. She splashed around in the water – now the dirtiest shade Cordelia had ever seen water take – with a big grin on her face and her eyes flashing with excitement. Afterwards, when Cordelia hugged the towel around her tiny body, the girl felt the edges of it, still with a huge smile on her face, as if a dry towel was another thing she had never seen before either.

Cordelia dressed her in one of her older dresses, a light beige one that almost fit the girl's skinny figure. Her hair was still tangled up in a mess and that fought hard and long against Cordelia's hairbrush. It came to a point, where she just gave up, because the girl was hissing at the brush. At least it was clean. Her hair turned out to be a golden blonde, floating around her head like a giant halo. As Cordelia was looking at her, her eyes locked with the little girl. The child held up her finger, pointing at Cordelia's eyes and cocked her head to the side with a questioning look on her face.

"I know, it's weird", Cordelia admitted. "I was born with it. It's called complete heterochromia. I don't suppose you know that word?"

The girl didn't answer, as Cordelia expected, but she kept staring, obviously fascinated. There was no trace of cruelty in her curiosity, not like the boys and girls at school, who thought she was just weird looking.

At dinner the girl refused to sit at the table, but sat against the wall on the floor, accepting whatever Cordelia gave her. She ate with great appetite and made no discrimination with what she was handed. Fiona scoffed, eyed the child with annoyance. Cordelia followed her expressions nervously. She was starting to really like this mysterious child and she hoped her mom would let her stay. She planned to fight for it.


	2. Chapter 2

Mute stray, God Fiona wished that had been true. The strange little girl, her daughter had dragged home, might not be talkative, but she sure was loud. She acted as if she had never been inside a house before. She would stand for hours in the hallway yelling, trying out the acoustics and listening to the faint echo, before Fiona had Spalding or Delphine chase her away. Delphine often did this without needing orders. She didn't seem as taken with the child as Fiona's daughter.

There was a weird connection between the kid and her daughter, Fiona slowly realized. She rarely saw one without the other; the little swamp rat followed Cordelia around all day, staring but never talking. And Cordelia didn't seem to mind at all.

Fiona couldn't fathom what had possessed her to let the murky little thing stay at her house. It had been two days since her daughter and maid dragged her in and for some reason Fiona hadn't thrown her out yet. Maybe it was her daughter's constant pleas. Maybe somewhere deep down Fiona just didn't have the heart to throw her back out in the wilderness. If child protective services ever found that out, she would never hear the end of it.

Child protective services did seem like a sensible place to dispose of the child. She would have, if it wasn't for Cordelia's begging to let her stay here. Cordelia had developed an aversion to such public services, it seemed, after spending a year in a similar institution, while Fiona directed the move of her entire office from Boston and here to New Orleans.

Fiona did think she could have done worse things. Downright abandoning your kid in the woods? At least drop it off on the doorstep somewhere, for heaven's sake. Fiona had had Delphine ask around the shelters, if someone knew of this nameless child, but no one did. Fiona wasn't surprised. Given the girl's state, she wasn't left there only a month ago. She had been molded by nature, had adapted to it. She often walked around the house on all four like some deformed monkey. She hadn't said a single word since her arrival, but she made herself understood just fine even so. She hissed at everyone who displeased her, she hopped onto the kitchen table, whenever she was hungry, driving Delphine insane in the process. Fiona would be mad too, if it wasn't so entertaining to watch the corpulent maid fling her arms around, trying to catch the child. Fiona didn't lift a finger. When the madness reached its high point, she would just call for Cordelia. She must have some soothing trick effect on the child, because it stopped immediately, whenever she said something to it. She could call the girl to her like the most obedient pet. It was a strange sight.

It didn't help the noise though, because the girl screamed and shouted when she was happy too. Even more so perhaps.

"Cordelia, will you _make_ her shut up! I am trying to concentrate!"

It wasn't as if Fiona didn't have things to do. She was running a law firm, the entire New Orleans department, after all. So far none of her employees knew of the wild creature living in her house and she planned to keep it that way. After only two days, however, she was beginning to make peace with not achieving this goal. With the amount of commotion the child produced, the whole neighborhood would know within a week.

The nights were even worse. Electricity seemed to be a new concept to the child as well and the sudden change did not sit well with her to say the least. Fiona had offered her a guest bedroom opposite Cordelia's, but she didn't seem to spent one minute in there. If she did, she slept underneath the bed, but mostly she crawled across the hall and snuck into Cordelia's room. She was never caught doing this, rather she evaporated from one room to the other. The little rat sure knew how to stop making noise, when she wanted to. Fiona decided to put her foot down one night and locked the girl in, which only resulted in nightlong screaming until Fiona finally caved. The child even seemed to prefer the garden over a soft bed. Fiona imagined the surroundings looked more familiar. Maybe she was more of a dog than an actual human being. Fiona thought perhaps, she should have Delphine train her with dog biscuits.

Either way, training the child would not be her problem. Keeping track of cases and lawyers were.

And tonight, none of it would be her problem. She needed a break to soothe the headache.

"Delphine!"

The maid came around the door. Her face hung with displeasure as always. Fiona was beginning to think it was the only expression she knew of.

"I'm going out. Make sure Cordelia is in bed by ten. And keep the other one out of her room this time, will you? Lock her out of the house, if you have to."

O0O

Cordelia jumped out of the car as soon as it parked in front of their enormous house. Spalding, their butler, said nothing – he couldn't of course, as he was born a mute – but drove the car around to the lot, while Cordelia ran up the isle to the front door. She didn't like Spalding one bit. He never addressed her in any way, but he looked at her with his searing gaze and it always made her uncomfortable. He never did anything, but she still thought it was inappropriate. His stare didn't possess the same kind curiosity that the little girl's did, it didn't seem to possess anything. He behaved as if he was carved in stone. The silent, servile expression never wavered and it was impossible to guess what he was thinking. Compared to him, the little girl was an open book to Cordelia.

The girl greeted her as soon as she entered the house. She was on all four. She mostly walked on two now, when they were among others anyway. Cordelia asked her to, because the rest of the house seemed to find it annoying that she walked like a wild animal. The rest being her mom and Delphine, as Spalding was only a shadow, which never appeared unless Fiona called for him. When she did, he was present only seconds later, and Cordelia had no idea how. It never failed. It was as if he crept around her heels, waiting for her to need him. Cordelia had no clue either what he thought of the child and she didn't want to ask.

"Hey you", Cordelia said. The girl opened her mouth as if to say something, but closed it again and settled for a smile. She had done this a couple of times now, and Cordelia wondered what it meant. Did she try to speak?

"I'm just gonna get my homework done and then we can play, sound good?"

The girl nodded eagerly and moved, so Cordelia could pass by her. As she did her homework, the girl curled up into a ball on the floor nearby. She sat there, picking at the carpet, but made no noise before Cordelia was done.

Cordelia liked school. Same, however, couldn't be said about her classmates. She always felt on the outside of it all, and having recently moved here from Boston did not help. If it wasn't the fact that her eyes were different colors, one blue and one brown – which was Madison's favorite thing to pick on – it was that she sounded different from all of them with her Boston accent. She was the shy girl even in her old school, which only made the struggle worse. She felt forever locked in her shell, and even her shell was a different color and a different shape from the rest. Even from the other shy kids at school. At least they blended in, and they all had each other, but no one ever talked to Cordelia.

It was one of the reasons why she was so taken to this strange little girl. She might not talk, but she seemed genuinely interested in Cordelia. She wanted her company. Cordelia didn't need the words, if she just knew that there was a friend in this feral little creature.

She had asked her mom, if she could be homeschooled on several occasions, but Fiona always denied her request. Said it would be good for her to feel the world around her, something she herself never did. When _she_ was out in the world it was often under the influence of something. She thought Cordelia didn't notice, but she did. She didn't dare comment.

The only thing she had really ever fought her mom on was whether or not to bring the little girl to child protective services. Cordelia remembered her year trapped in an institution with a bunch of other kids who felt equally abandoned. They didn't talk much to her either, but at least they didn't talk to anyone. Cordelia had begged her mom not to put the girl there. Truth be told, it wasn't the only reason she pleaded to keep the girl. She knew she was being selfish, but she didn't want to lose the only friend she had.

"It's good to grow up around siblings, I've looked it up", she argued with as much authority as her young, high-pitched voice could muster. "Like you and Myrtle." In truth, the little girl felt nothing like a sister, but for argument's sake, she chose those words.

Fiona scoffed. "Like me and Myrtle."

She never threw the girl out though. She didn't let her eat at the table, she left the responsibility of bathing her and dressing her to Cordelia and Delphine, but she let her stay.

At night on the fourth day of the girl's entry in her life, Cordelia lay awake. She often found it difficult to sleep on days were she was teased in school. She didn't tell her mom much of this, because she brushed it off as weakness.

"You have to toughen up darling, or the whole world will step on you as it pleases", she would say. "Don't be weak like your father." Cordelia could barely remember her father. He was nothing but a fading face in the back of her mind. She couldn't remember him speaking to her. And from what Fiona said, he wasn't much of a father; left them both because he couldn't handle the pressure.

That night she heard ruffling underneath her bed and flew up. Her nightlight shimmered lazily from her nightstand and in its light, she saw a shadow moving at the edge of her bed.

"Hey, is it you?" She whispered. "How did you get in here?"

Cordelia climbed off her bed and sat down on the floor. The little girl had curled up underneath her bed and stared from Cordelia to the nightlight with frightened eyes.

"Don't you like the light? I can turn it off, if you want?"

She nodded. Cordelia reached up and turned it off. The darkness settled upon the room. It was summer, so the dark wasn't as thick as could be, but enough to make Cordelia uneasy.

"I'm not so good with the dark, you see", she told the girl. "But if you're here I guess it's okay."

Slowly, her eyes got used to the darkness and she could see the girl, as she crawled out from under the bed and sat down, cross-legged in front of Cordelia.

"You're very sneaky. I didn't even hear you come in."

The girl flashed her a teasing smile.

"Well, come on then. It's no good sleeping on the floor." Cordelia climbed into her bed again and gestured for the girl to follow her. She hesitated for a few moments, as if checking if Cordelia really meant it, and then hopped on.

"But you have to be out really quickly tomorrow morning, so Mommy doesn't see, okay?"

The girl nodded.

Cordelia smiled at her and started crawling underneath the covers again.

"Misty."

Cordelia stopped dead and turned her head back to the little girl.

"Did you say something?"

The girl pointed a finger at herself. "Me. Misty." Her voice sounded so different. Closer to that of Cordelia's classmates, but still not the same. A little rougher – of course it would be, God only knew how long it had been since she last used her vocal cord – and perhaps a little deeper than Cordelia would have expected.

She couldn't help but smile from ear to ear, when she realized that this little girl, Misty, was really talking to her.

"That's your name?"

She nodded.

Cordelia's smile grew wider. "Well, hello Misty."


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Thanks for the kind words at the send-off! Now, I'll try keeping up a reasonable pace with these updates, but I'm also trying to accomplish a master's degree here so please bear with me, if I'm a little slow at times.**

* * *

"How old are you, Misty?"

Misty held up her hand, showing five fingers to the fat lady, who they called Delphine. She looked down at Misty with a disapproving look, one that seemed permanently plastered to her face, whenever Misty was near.

"Say it", Delphine demanded.

"Five", Misty answered.

"Give me a whole sentence, child."

"I'm five."

"-years old. Now repeat. 'I am…"

"-Five years old", Misty said.

Delphine sighed. "You're not _listening_ to me, child. You have to use whole sentences. Madame will not appreciate this barbaric language."

Misty bared her teeth and hissed at her. She didn't like her much. She didn't like the Madame either. She was cold and she looked at Misty like she was a pile of mud. Mud was a bad thing in the eyes of Fiona Goode, she had found this out soon enough. Misty liked mud. There was a strange comfort to be found in the dirt, but in here everything was clean. Misty had never seen a house this big before, so full of smooth surfaces and sharp edges. No soft, whispering leaves, no little rocks and not a single trace of dirt. The fat lady saw to that.

Misty missed her swamp. She could barely recall anything from before the year she had spent out there, but when she did think of it, she remembered feelings of danger and looks of contempt. She remembered being lead into the woods by a cold man – not unlike Mrs. Goode – and then it was all solitude and the smell of forest from there.

Delphine sighed and shook her head, while mumbling what that sounded like: "Impossible."

"Delphine, let me try." Cordelia emerged from the background and walked to the center of the kitchen. Misty instantly felt more at ease. This girl was the reason she didn't run away to try and find her swamp again. This beautiful, careful girl with her dual colored eyes – she had explained the word, but Misty simply couldn't remember how to pronounce it – was what made Misty feel at home in this giant cold, house. And she sensed that the girl didn't want her to leave either, so she stayed. Hers was the first human voice she had heard in ages. She had reached a point where she could barely recollect what such a voice sounded like. Those she did remember were a mess of loud exclamations that didn't make sense in her head. Sometimes she thought she remembered her mama's voice, but she couldn't recall any words. Words and voices had started to feel like a lost concept. Until the day Cordelia had spoken to her. Misty felt lucky in some way, that the voice to bring back the concept of talking had been such a soft, pleasant one.

Cordelia sat down at the table in front of her and waited until Delphine busied herself with something else.

"Just a couple more sentences, okay? Then we can play."

Misty nodded. She sat on the floor, looking up at Cordelia like an obedient student.

"Can you say: 'My name is Misty'?"

"My name is Misty."

"Good. How old are you?"

"I'm five." Cordelia continued to look at her, revealing nothing but patience. "- years old", Misty added and earned a smile.

"And what is my name?"

"Cordelia." She had to concentrate to say this name right and usually she settled for the shorter Delia, which the girl seemed to like.

"You have to say a whole sentence, Misty."

"Your name. Is… Cordelia."

"Good."

"She's _Miss_ Cordelia to you, monkey. Don't forget your place." Fiona had just walked in. She took a glass out of a cupboard and a bottle of something dark and liquid out of the other. Misty bared her teeth in a snarl, while she stared at the _Madame_ , as the fat lady told her to call her. Cordelia held up a hand to stop her, but too late.

Fiona's eyes narrowed as she looked at Misty.

"Don't take that tone with me, you little swamp rat, or you're out in the cold again."

"Mommy please don't call her that."

"It's my house. I'll call her whatever I want. Work on her manners, will you?" Fiona left the kitchen again, but not before casting a disapproving look at Misty. It looked a bit like the one Delphine always shot at her, only a little colder. Misty held her gaze without blinking and stared after her, when she walked out.

"I'm sorry about that, Misty."

Misty shook her head. It didn't matter what the Madame said. And there was nothing wrong with rats. They even made for decent food, when there was nothing else.

"Play now?" She asked.

"Just a little bit more, is that okay?"

Misty nodded. Cordelia seemed much intended on teaching her to speak and Misty let her. She knew she had to for the sake of pleasing the Madame, but mostly she just wanted to sound more like Cordelia, who spoke so many pretty words, that Misty didn't even know. She had her language hidden somewhere in her head, but in all her time living alone in the forest, she hadn't needed it. Now it felt like digging it out from the depths of the swamp. She caught glimpses of it, but most was beyond her reach, stuck beneath the dark waters. She was willing to work on it though, seeing as it kept her in here. The floors maybe be weirdly hard and even, and the house filled with noises she didn't know or like, but the thought of going back there and not live with Cordelia outweighed it all somehow. She felt safe with her, in a way she never could in the wild.

The rest of the evening they would spent playing. With games like hide and seek Misty quickly learned her way around the house. Hiding was something she had gotten good at and she could stay hidden – even in the light, minimalistic house of the Goode mansion – for hours. Usually she got too impatient to wait that long and started calling out, appreciating the echo. There were many sounds she found strange and alarming, but this one made her laugh, hard and long until Mrs. Goode told her to shut up.

Cordelia would sometimes sit her down and try to comb Misty's hair or try to pull it up in a ponytail like the one she often did on herself – and she usually gave up. Misty's hair had its own will and it was as wild as the rest of her. More often than not, after patiently waiting for Cordelia to give up, Misty would take the brush and switch their positions. Cordelia had the softest hair of pale gold and it fascinated Misty like nothing else. Perhaps apart from her eyes. Those were her favorite thing to study. It often made Cordelia nervous, she had realized.

"Why do you look at me like that?" She asked once, hints of insecurity poorly concealed.

"I like your face", Misty simply answered, making the other girl blush and snicker. That's how Misty liked her best.

O0O

It was strange watching Misty. An anarchic soul, no doubt, annoying like no other child and a bit mysterious. A dual personality almost. She didn't bow her head, when Fiona reprimanded her, but stared right back, daring her. It infuriated her. Of course she would never admit to a living soul that a mere child – a little, uncivilized one at that – got under her skin like that. God forbid, she would never hear the end of it.

Whether it was herself, Delphine or Spalding trying to get some sense into that big, ignorant head Misty hissed or ignored them, if she didn't think a request reasonable. Must be those thick curls blocking the input, Fiona thought. She could be a relative of Medusa. Wild and with eyes of some sort of unearthly strength, that Fiona felt staring back at her and for which she failed to find a name. It was just there, taking measure of her. Strange was it that as soon as Cordelia said the slightest thing to her, Medusa's child shut right up. Like a stroke of magic. That annoyed Fiona even more.

They were starting to notice at the office too.

"Is it true that you've taken a parentless little girl in, Mrs. Goode?" Cecily Pembroke, her God-awful secretary, asked her one morning. She was the most nosy woman Fiona had ever met, but coincidentally also the only one in the building resilient enough to stay her secretary for more than a few months.

"You shouldn't believe everything you hear, Cecily."

"But Marsha told me? Marsha from customer support."

"I'm well aware of where my employees are seated, thank you."

"Well she said she drove by your house the other day and saw the little girl your maid's been asking about at the shelters, playing in your garden with your daughter."

Fiona could just picture it, her daughter and Misty down on all four playing fetch. She scoffed. "What am I supposed to do with this information, Cecily? Have your cafeteria friend arrested for stalking?"

"No, no, I was just curious", she said with fluster. "You just don't strike me as that type of person, is all."

"Mind your own business, will you? Send my ten o'clock in, when you're done drooling over my personal life."

Fiona didn't wait for an answer, but started walking away. She had almost reached the piece of her office, when her secretary called after her:

"Oh and your sister called. She said that you should call her and that no matter what you answer, she's coming to town next week."

"Well you tell her it sounds like there's no need for me to call her at all."

Fiona closed her doors and sat down, preparing for her budget meeting. The dim darkness of her office was just utterly depressing and she was itching for a smoke. Or something stronger. Soon, she heard the voice of the accountant on the other side of the door and stifled the urge to reach down to her second drawer for the little bag of powder.

O0O

Her new best friend might be the ultimate soul of nature, but Cordelia thoroughly enjoyed the outside too. It felt like the epitome of inner piece, just walking through the long grass on an autumn day like this. The afternoon still managed a little warmth and the fiery orange, red and golden colors of the changing treetops added a sense of heat. Cordelia hummed to herself while walking, her gaze jumping from tree to tree, through the paths of the forest and to Misty, who ran around while squealing up ahead. Delphine walked behind them, sulking because Fiona had forced her to follow them wherever they went in here and not let them out of her sight again. Fiona herself couldn't be bothered to take an afternoon stroll with her daughter. Her two daughters perhaps. Cordelia had overheard her musing these things to Spalding. Her mom often talked to him, consulted him even and Cordelia never understood why. He couldn't answer.

Cordelia marveled at the prospect of Misty living with them permanently. The thought was so good it almost hurt, because she was scared to think it. She dreaded she might start to believe just in time to have her hopes crushed. She had never felt this close to anyone before.

Misty seemed to want to stay too, but Cordelia could tell she missed her swamp. Cordelia didn't blame her. The wilderness that lay beyond the paths she tread was frightening to _her_ – perhaps a little less so now with the strange power Misty possessed – but it had been Misty's home and Cordelia understood the pain of leaving home. She missed Boston sometimes, mostly her old school, but with Misty here it wasn't so bad. She hoped Misty felt the same way.

"Misty don't go too far! Heavens, that child. Miss Cordelia, make sure she doesn't stray."

"She won't, Delphine. She'll come back. She always does, doesn't she?"

Delphine reluctantly agreed, but mumbled something dubious that Cordelia couldn't make out.

After a while, it started to rain, which completed their maid's misery. She flunked her arms around and stared hopelessly into the sky. It wasn't heavy rain, rather a soft prickle on her hands and face, the only places her skin was exposed. She looked up to see the sun still shining faintly, peeking through the cloud cover.

"Look Delia, Look! A sun shower!" Misty came bouncing back through the long grass, her messy hair floating through the air. Even a drizzle of rain couldn't tame it.

"A what?"

"Misty, you're supposed to call her Miss-"

"When it rains and sun shines! _Sun shower_." Misty's ecstatic voice drowned Delphine's rebuke and she sighed heavily, eyeing the child with defeat. Cordelia found the whole scene quite amusing.

"Look for a rainbow Misty! They come out it weather like this."

Misty spun around on her heels in a full circle, staring at the sky for any sign of colors. They stayed like that until the rain started gaining strength, soaked through their clothes and Delphine all but dragged them home by the cuff of their jackets.

They dried off before dinner and while Cordelia took a seat at the table, Misty patiently waited on the floor for her plate. When she got it, she dug into it with her hands and ate greedily, as if someone would come and take her food away, if she wasn't quick enough. Now and then, she eyed the table with a longing glance. Cordelia quickly deciphered her look and turned to her mom.

"Mommy, why can't Misty eat up here with us?"

"Because she eats like a goddamn savage, that's why", Fiona answered without looking up from her paper.

"But she doesn't like sitting down there."

"She looks satisfied to me."

"Mommy look at her!" Cordelia turned to Misty. "Misty, would you rather sit up here?"

Misty nodded and her eyes wandered between the two.

Fiona spared her a glance and looked down at the paper again. "I'm not having that at my table, Cordelia."

"What if I taught her how to eat with knife and fork?"

That made her drop the paper and she shot her daughter a look of heavy doubt.

"You expect to teach that one?"

Cordelia resented it, when Fiona spoke of Misty, as if she was not there or as if she was a lesser being, who didn't well understand every word she said, but she didn't dare say anything to it. Instead, she said: "Yes of course. You wanted me to teach her manners, didn't you?"

She received a long, scrutinizing look from her mom for that. She said: "I will not have her up here a second before she can handle service like a normal human being."

"Does that mean I can teach her?"

Fiona sighed. "Fine. If it'll make you shut up. If you can manage it by next week, when Myrtle's coming, I'll consider not hiding her away."

"Myrtle's coming?" Cordelia practically squealed, which made Misty eye her curiously. Cordelia smiled at her and she was too excited to notice the shadow that fell over Fiona's face.


	4. Chapter 4

Myrtle always thought of New Orleans as a bright and sunny place. Which was funny because bright and sunny were not two words she had ever used to describe her sister. She sometimes wondered exactly what went through Fiona's mind when she accepted to run the department down here instead of staying in Boston. What did Fiona want with the city of Jazz? Fiona didn't have one musical nerve in her body. This place was too colorful for someone who only ever wore black dresses. Myrtle thought to ask many times, but she never did. She knew she wouldn't get a valuable answer anyhow. Perhaps the move was only meant to do the obvious; put more distance between them.

The warmth hit her like a solid wall, when she got out of the car. She had taken a taxi from the airport this time, as Fiona could not be bothered to send her butler as she used to. Such a pity. Myrtle enjoyed the company of Spalding. She didn't mind the silence, she filled that herself quite easily. The maid was far worse, looking so uptight all day long, as if the whole world smelled nasty to her. The world was full of wonderful smells!

Myrtle took a whiff of Louisiana air. It smelled so clean compared to that of New York. The streets here looked cleaner too. While New Orleans had a colorfulness of its own, these outskirts of it were much quieter than New York and they didn't burst with the same spectacular mess of life from constant motion and ever shouting people as in her city of home. It was a shame, because Myrtle appreciated the burst. And she had more than once toyed with the idea of getting lost in the vibrant musical nightlife of New Orleans – a good disco never failed – but she didn't object to a week in the quiet sun to visit her family. Even if only one of them ever acted happy to see her.

"Auntie Myrtle!" She turned her head to watch her beautiful little niece come running towards her with her blonde hair dancing around her head. It caught the fading autumn sunlight and it made it shine like a halo. She was the light of Myrtle's life, the apple of her eye.

"Darling!" She crouched down and the girl almost knocked her over as she collided with Myrtle's open embrace.

"I'm so glad you're here! Mommy keeps saying you're going to run out of money soon and can't come visit us anymore."

"Nonsense dear, she's just teasing." If Fiona ever listened to a word she said, first thing on Myrtle's list would be to make her stop using half-truths as joking material.

"I have a surprise for you!" Cordelia said. Her eyes shone with excitement. "Mommy promised she wouldn't tell you, so I could show you."

"That sounds lovely, darling! Oh there he is. Friend! Come here, help me with these!" Myrtle waved Spalding over as he appeared in the shadows of the doorway. He stepped out and shuffled across the aisle to her aid. He looked so pale in the sunlight it made Myrtle think of a withered vampire, although she wasn't sure the poor man even had teeth. Cordelia visibly winced, when he walked by her and she tugged at Myrtle's hand to lead her inside.

Fiona stood tall in the doorway, draped in a black dress of course, one that suited her slender figure and even took away a few years of age. If only there had been a finger to put on it. Myrtle would have loved bear the title of the family fashion icon, but sadly, this seemed to be another fight her dear little sister planned to win. Fiona said nothing before Myrtle reached the steps.

"Hello Myrtle."

"Hello sister. I see dear Spalding is in fact still alive, any reason he couldn't pick me up today?"

"Getting used to servants, are we? Didn't think you would, living in that broom closet of yours. If you insist on knowing, he was busy picking a monkey out of a tree in the back yard."

"Mommy, please don't say that."

"I didn't ruin your surprise now, did I?"

Myrtle made her way inside. She was so used to welcomes like these that she hardly noticed Fiona's words. She didn't meddle with the bickering between mother and daughter either. More often than not, this was their language.

Inside the maid greeted her with her usual aura of reluctance.

"Can I take your coat, Mrs. Snow?" She asked with a sour look on her face. She appeared extraordinarily bitter today for some reason, but Myrtle couldn't be bothered with such gloominess and placed her own sunglasses over Delphine's eyes.

"There you go dear, enjoy yourself for a change."

Delphine said nothing, and did nothing to remove the sunglasses, but walked away with the coat. Myrtle looked around the entrance hall, spotless as always. Many things could be said about the dry, corpulent maid, but she did her job. Fiona didn't need to lift a finger, which Myrtle imagined suited her just fine. A leftover from their childhood, no doubt.

As she looked around a small figure appeared down the hall.

"My, who's this little one?"

"This is the surprise! Come on Misty, come say hello to my Auntie."

At Cordelia's voice, the little one slowly came around the corner and walked towards them. She seemed insecure on her feet. As the child walked closer, Myrtle took in her every feature, from her pale skin, tight on her bones, her clear blue eyes and the wild mess of blonde hair that made her head look so big on her petite body. Myrtle looked at her in wonder, then up at Fiona, who rolled her eyes, and back at the child, who Cordelia called Misty.

The child seemed to be studying her equally. She shot a glance at Cordelia and Myrtle couldn't see what answer she got, but a little smile appeared on her face. She looked back at Myrtle, who crouched down again to take her in properly, and she reached out a hand to touch Myrtle's flaming red, frizzy hair. Her head cocked to the side and curiosity sparkled in her eyes. Her hand dropped again and she said: "Hello, Cordelia's aunt."

Myrtle couldn't help the chuckle that escaped her. There was something strange and compelling about this little one.

"Hello my dear child. You can call me Myrtle. What marvelous little creature might you be?"

"I'm Misty", she simply said. There was another smile hiding in her features, waiting to break out. Myrtle could see it teasing the corners of her mouth and it made her mimic the gesture. She took the little girl's hand and looked up at Cordelia, who was bursting with joy, and Fiona, who looked like she was slightly bored, but couldn't think of something better to do.

"Well tell me about this little one!" She looked mostly at Cordelia.

"We- well _I_ found her in the woods a while ago. Well _she_ found _me_ and we don't know, if she has parents or a home so we took her home and now she lives with us!"

Myrtle looked up at Fiona in utter bewilderment: "Is that true? You have taken her in?"

Fiona shrugged. "Couldn't quite let her stay out there and be alligator food, now could I?"

"No no no, of course not! I'm just… Well, surprised. How old are you, Misty?"

There was a fraction of a moment, where Misty's gaze shifted to Cordelia's face and back, before she said: "I'm five… years old." She held up her fingers too, as if for safety measures.

"My, and abandoned… It's a pleasure to meet you, Misty."

Misty grinned and moments after she and Cordelia ran down the hall and outside.

"No running!" Fiona yelled after them, but they were already gone. "Jesus, these girls. I swear that one is bringing anarchy to my house."

"What a strange child she is…" Myrtle mused. She strolled through the house and found a window from where she could observe Cordelia and Misty. There was something different about Cordelia in the presence of this strange little one. The shyness, the hesitance, it all seemed to have loosened its grip on her just a bit. "Is it true she has no home?"

"Not one we know of", Fiona answered and poured herself a drink. She didn't offer Myrtle one. Myrtle still couldn't quite shake the fact that her sister, her egocentric loner of a little sister, had taken a child into her home just like that. It must be because of this connection Myrtle sensed between the two girls, a friendship even Fiona wouldn't deny her child.

"Do you plan to adopt her?"

Fiona, who had just raised her glass to her lips, lowered the hand again. "Why would I do that?"

"Don't play the fool sister, you work with the law. You know very well this child can be taken from you, if you don't have the papers. I would hate to see her go."

For this she received a scoff in the taunting manner, Fiona had mastered from a very young age. "You don't know her. Who'd want to claim this little devil?"

"I would just hate to see Cordelia loose her. One glance at her and it is obvious the girl is good for her. Cordelia still doesn't have many friends in school, does she?"

Fiona looked out the window at the girls playing, seemingly turning it over in her mind.

"I don't know, Myrtle. One child is more than enough. Why don't you take her? You wanted one, didn't you? Last thing I heard, your tubes are still blocked."

"You know I don't have the resources, don't be silly", she answered, purposely overhearing Fiona's last comment. "Dear departed Mister Snow didn't leave me much, as I'm positive you're already aware of."

She left Fiona then, with the excuse to go check on the girls. They had left her sight and Cordelia was often the center point of her visits, so she sought her out as much as she could. It was unusual that she had left Myrtle alone with Fiona this quickly, but Myrtle didn't mind. Not if a new friend was the reason, she didn't feel the need to hover.

She found them both near the greenhouse outside in the yard.

"Myrtle!" Cordelia called as she stepped onto the porch. She waved her over. "We have something to show you!"

They disappeared into the greenhouse and Myrtle hurried after them.

"Girls, you're not supposed to be in here! It's no place for children!" She stepped inside the moist atmosphere. The light had been turned on, but she couldn't see the girls anywhere. The flowers and plants in here were all sorted out in neat rows and cared for. Most of them were alive, because Cordelia tended to them. Fiona never cared much for nature. She liked clean, white walls and spotless furniture.

"Where are you two? Come out this instant!"

Misty appeared from under one of the tables, crawling on all four. There was dirt on her face and somehow it suited her. She looked more real with a little mud on her, looked more at ease. She stared at Myrtle without speaking.

As Myrtle crouched down to her, Cordelia appeared around the corner.

"Misty got the keys from Spalding", she said. "Well, she took them. She's very sneaky." There was adoration in her eyes, when she said this.

"Put them back and I won't tell your mom, can we make that deal? Now what was – what happened to your hand dear?!" Myrtle caught the sight of Cordelia's little hand. A bleeding cut raced across her palm, the blood reflected the light. Myrtle reached out to look at it, but Cordelia stopped her.

"No Auntie, that's what we wanted to show you. Just look."

Myrtle withdrew her hands with hesitation. She looked as Cordelia crouched down beside Misty and held out her bleeding hand. The little girl looked up at her and a silent question and answer seemed to pass between them. Myrtle would have marveled over this strong, newborn connection, but her train of thoughts was stopped as Misty moved. She put her hands around Cordelia's, staring at the contact with a stunning focus and held still. When she moved her hand away again, the cut had vanished. It was as if it had never been there. Only a bit of blood marked where the line of injury had been. Misty licked her thumb and wiped it away.

Myrtle lifted up her glasses, as if she suspected _they_ were making her see it. But the wound was gone.

It took Myrtle a few seconds to process what she had just seen. She fought her mind's attempts to rationalize it, because this was… magic. All the while the two girls stared at her, their eyes sparkling as they waited for her words.

She looked at Cordelia first. "In all my years… Did she really make it go away or are you tricking me?"

Myrtle took her hand, examining it, just in case her eyes were telling her lies.

Cordelia smiled. "She did. She can heal people! Isn't it amazing?"

"Did you show Fiona this?"

Cordelia shook her head. Of course she hadn't. Fiona would have been far more cautious with her words, if she had.

"I think you best not yet. At least until Misty can be sure to stay here. Your mom is accepting of many things, but we wouldn't want her changing her mind, would we?"

A fraction of joy drained from Cordelia's face. "Of course not. But did you like it?"

"It was unlike anything I've ever seen!" She turned to the little one and cupped her face. "You are extraordinary."

Misty smiled.

O0O

The first time Misty saw Cordelia cry was a late October afternoon, two weeks after Myrtle had flown home to New York. She was sitting underneath the piano in the living room, when Cordelia came home at the end of a school day, slamming the door behind her.

"Christ", her mister hissed from her office room, which led right out into the hall. "Cordelia, you know I hate it when you slam the doors!"

Cordelia didn't answer, but stormed up the stairs. Misty didn't catch more than a short glimpse of her, but it was more than enough to know that something was wrong. She crawled out from under the piano, left the puddle of leaves, she had been playing with, behind – that fat lady was going to get really mad at her, but she didn't care – and went upstairs to find Cordelia crying behind her closed door. She hadn't slammed this one.

Misty opened the door to find Cordelia lying atop her bed, soft sniffles coming out between the hands she held over her face. She sat up straight as soon as Misty peeked inside, but once she realized it was her, she seemed to calm down again. She wiped the tears from her eyes with the corner of her sleeve.

"Oh hi Misty", she put on a brave smile, but Misty wasn't fooled. She crawled onto the bed to sit beside her.

"What's wrong?" Misty asked.

"It's nothing", she said, but Misty didn't accept it. She kept staring at Cordelia, waited patiently for her to answer. Finally, Cordelia sighed. "It's this girl, Madison. She's in my class. She's always picking on me, calling me things. Now she's calling me two-face, because of my eyes."

An anger built in Misty's little body, a rapid fury rising against this faceless girl. She didn't notice that her hands had curled into fists, before Cordelia laid her own on top them and unfolded them.

"It's okay, Misty. It doesn't matter. I've been called worse things."

Misty shook her head fiercely. "Not okay", she said. "She just jealous, 'cause you so pretty."

That made Cordelia smile and the sight soothed Misty. She slouched back into a calmer posture, but held onto Cordelia's hands. Watched the girl chuckle despite her tears.

"You're so sweet. You're my best friend, Misty. I wish you could be at my school. It's just so hard sometimes. Madison's always running it all, telling everyone how she's gonna be a movie star someday and- and she's got them all turned against me. It's so unfair!" Cordelia started crying again. Misty didn't say anything, but gave her space to pour it all out. The more she talked the more upset she became, as if she never got a chance to air out all the bad inside her. She let out until she had no more and the words changed to silent tears.

It saddened Misty to see Cordelia cry like this. Then she remembered something, a vague recollection of what her mama had done for her, when she cried. She had to stand on her knees to reach, so she got up and placed a gentle kiss on Cordelia's temple.

"Don't cry no more, Delia."

Cordelia sniffled, but smiled.

O0O

"Cecily, get Peterson on the phone. I need to pull some strings."

Fiona's secretary flickered through her contacts. She must be the oldest secretary, Fiona had ever hired. It didn't help Fiona's respect for the woman that they were almost the same age, yet miles apart in the hierarchy.

Cecily's eyes got wider when she realized whom Peterson was. "But he's from the adoption agency? Does that mean-"

"All I wanted was the phone number, Pembrooke. And no, you can't tell Marsha from customer support. You can tell exactly no one or you will be out of a job, you hear me?"

Crestfallen, Cecily dialed the number and handed Fiona the phone.

It took only a few months, thanks to her web of contacts, before Fiona had the final paper in her hands. Misty Goode. It sounded absurd. Never had Fiona thought she would be handed any kind of adoption paper. Honestly, she had had enough of the noisy little wild child as it was. Cleaning up after her when she threw at fit over the nightlights at bedtime, making her stop howling after the dogs, and stop attacking the cooling fans. It was exhausting just to watch Delphine do all those things. Even _she_ couldn't shut her up. Spalding seemed downright afraid of her. He winced and walked away like a dog with its tail between its legs, when she growled at him. And growl she did. Fiona thought that perhaps she should have gotten the papers from the kennel instead.

"Cordelia!" She called for her daughter as soon as she came home. She had done all the work now, she damned well deserved to be the one to see the look on Cordelia's face, when she found out.

"Yes?" She appeared at the top of the staircase.

"Come down here. I want to show you something."

Cordelia carefully descended the stairs. Behind her, staying at the top, was Misty. She followed the scene from up there, which suited Fiona just fine.

"Here, read this", Fiona told her and held out the paper. Cordelia took it and as she read, a smile grew on her face. It made Fiona feel like she had done something right for once, obnoxious as their new pet was. Her new _daughter_ , she reminded herself. She would have to be careful to remember voice this right, when speaking to others. Not that she counted on telling many of this.

Cordelia finished reading and looked up at her, eyes sparkling with the light of Christmas morning. "She can really stay here?"

"I still hold you responsible for teaching her manners, but yes she can stay. She's officially your sister now. Satisfied?"

She nodded eagerly. And threw her arms around Fiona's stomach. "Thank you, mommy!" Fiona froze in the spot, unsure what to do. Embraces was something she gave Myrtle. Fiona honestly couldn't remember the last time she had hugged her daughter. She put her arms awkwardly around the girl. Ran a hand through her hair and couldn't help smiling. It became too much and she gave her a small pad on the back.

When she let go, Cordelia had a troubled look on her face.

"Now what, child? It's too late to change your mind."

"No! No, that not it. It's just, I… wanted to show you something."

"Right now? I need to catch up on work. You can't be surprised to learn that this has taken quite a lot of my time."

"Oh", she said. There was something in her voice. Was it relief?

Fiona sighed. "I guess I have time if-"

"No, it's okay." Cordelia smiled and gave her back the adoption paper, so carefully you would think it was made of glass. "It can wait."

O0O

As happy as Cordelia indeed was, the word still sounded odd in her ears. Sister. Cordelia had always wondered what it would be like to have siblings. The other girls at school talked about it. Queenie, someone who sometimes spoke to Cordelia, when she sat alone during lunch, told her about all her brothers. How they fought all the time. Cordelia had only herself to fight with. Madison always told her that it was because she was so weird looking, her mom was afraid to have any more, but Cordelia knew Madison was an only child too. Cordelia had always wanted a little brother or little sister. Someone to look after. She had tried to picture it; a little version of herself, sharing her features, perhaps even her strange, heterochromatic eyes, someone to talk to everyday, to even fight with and to share her mom's harsh words. She knew it was selfish, but she sometimes wished just that.

Whatever she imagined, it was not this. Misty looked nothing like her, behaved nothing like her and she didn't seem to give much thought to all the harsh words thrown at her. But she was comfort still. Cordelia didn't see her as a sister, but as the friend she never had. And she was more than happy to be able to keep her, so happy she hugged her mom at the news. She received an awkward pad on the back in return, but it didn't matter, because she just wanted to say thank you the best way she knew how. Fiona's thoughts had moved on, before Cordelia could decide, if now was the time to show her, what Misty could do. She figured it could wait.

That night, when Cordelia turned off her nightlight and Misty crawled up to her, Cordelia turned to her with the news.

"My mom has adopted you today. Do you know what that means?"

Misty shook her head, but her eyes were wide open with anticipation.

"It means you can stay here with me forever."

Misty broke out in a wide grin and the two girls smiled at each other, before settling in for sleep. Misty inched closer and nested at the hollow of Cordelia's throat. The curls ticked her, but she wouldn't dream of telling Misty to move.

Another wish pressed on Cordelia. She was hesitant to ask, if Misty could come to school with her, but finally gathered the courage one of the following days. Her mom told her strictly no.

"It's too much paperwork Cordelia, one thing at a time. I'm very busy at the moment, as I believe I told you yesterday."

"But she's just the right age, mommy."

"I will hear none of this. Don't make me regret adopting her in the first place."

So, Cordelia took it upon her own shoulders to teach Misty. Misty, who had reclaimed most of her language by now, seemed eager to learn more. Cordelia started with simple numbers and the alphabet, hoping to teach Misty to count and read a few things within the year. Everyday, when she came home, she sat down, did her homework and then tried to imprint a fraction of knowledge on Misty as well. It was a lot harder than helping her reclaim her lost language, but Cordelia refused to give up.

"Christ, where do you get that patience, girl?" Her mom would ask her, day after day, when she sat down with Misty. In truth, Misty's patience ran out long before Cordelia's.

Sometimes they worked before breakfast, because Misty was less impatient to go play then. Rather, she seemed to connect that once she stopped paying attention, Cordelia would leave for school and so she made an extra effort to sit still. The notion made Cordelia so thrilled that some days not even Madison's cruel words could touch her.

"Cordelia!" Her mom called from the entrance hall. "Come on, child, I have a board meeting in half an hour! If you're not present in three seconds you'll have to ride with Spalding."

Nothing made Cordelia hurry like the threat of spending more time than necessary in the company of the mute butler. She closed the book, grabbed her back and ran to the front door. "No, don't go, I'm here!" Misty followed after and caught up by the time Cordelia had tied her shoes.

Fiona stood by the door, eyeing Cordelia impatiently. Cordelia could feel her stare.

"Goodbye, Misty", Cordelia said, while putting on her jacket. "See you later."

"Bye Miss Cordelia", Misty pronounced dutifully, while shooting a glance Fiona. As soon as she was out the door, Misty leaned in and whispered: "See you later, Delia." And then she was off to the garden.

Cordelia wiped the smile off her face and hurried after her mom.

"I don't like Spalding", Cordelia finally said at the end of the short, silent drive. She expected her mom to scoff and tell her to stop whining, but instead she said:

"Well, he's an odd fellow, but he's on contract. He came with the house. I doubt he'll ever leave it."

Cordelia didn't argue further. When they held up at her school, she gave her mother another hug for good measure, leaving her slightly perplexed.

"See you later", she said before jumping out of the car and heading for class.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Thanks for the support you guys, you have no idea how happy it makes me! Off to the next one:**

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As the months turned into the first year, Misty learned how to live in the Goode house. She knew when to avoid Fiona, knew how to sneak food from the kitchen, so Delphine didn't see and she knew exactly how to make Cordelia smile on days, where a smile seemed to be the hardest thing.

It wasn't rare that Cordelia came home like she had that November day and Mrs. Goode always let Misty go to her first. It was also Misty, she send out after her daughter, when the fights resulted in Cordelia fleeing to the woods. They lived somewhat nearby, Misty had realized over time. Close enough that Cordelia could run out there and get lost. But she didn't get lost, when Misty was with her.

Today Misty had run into the greenhouse, because Mrs. Goode had thrown her out of Cordelia's room to have a private talk. Misty didn't listen, because Cordelia didn't want her to, but she knew it had something to do with her grades. Misty didn't understand. She thought Cordelia was the smartest girl she had ever met. Out of respect she had gone to her niche of home and planned to stay there, until she figured the fight was over.

It didn't take long before Fiona started calling for her.

"Misty! I know you're out there!"

Misty used the back entrance, so Fiona didn't see that she had unlocked the door to the greenhouse again. She liked being in there and she spent more time here than in the actual house. It was like being back in her swamp – but it was a swamp Cordelia could enter without being afraid.

Fiona stood on the porch with her arms crossed.

"There you are. I need you to go find Cordelia again. I'm sending you with Spalding. And tell her to stop doing that, will you?"

Misty nodded her head dutifully. "I'll try, Mrs. Goode."

"Good girl."

Spalding walked beside her in his usual silence. He was a strange fellow, but Misty didn't despise him the way Cordelia did. Cordelia found him creepy, she said, but Misty just thought he was a little odd. He seemed at bit sad too, always bowing his head to the Madame and taking orders from everyone. Misty couldn't imagine taking orders from anyone. When Fiona yelled at her and Cordelia, she would just peek to the side without listening, because Cordelia's body language always told her, when it was okay to leave. She stood still with her hands behind her back and her head bowed, when she listened and when the reprimand was over, she looked up and her shoulders relaxed. Misty would dart off then, ready to resume playing.

Now Misty wandered into the depths of the forest, while listening to the whispers of the trees, which welcomed her home. She was happy to be allowed to stay with Cordelia and she didn't feel like she could ever leave her now, but _this_ was her home. The moist breeze teasing her hair into a mess was like a playful hand of a friend. The warmth of the ground was the nurturing warmth of the only mother she could truly remember. Misty crossed through the wild without fear, leaving the shadow of their butler to wait at the edge. He tripped on the tips of his feet, but he didn't follow her in. Misty let him be and hummed as she walked. She never understood his or any of the other's fright for the swamp.

It didn't take her long to find Cordelia. The girl wasn't particularly good at hiding. She sat not far from the path, on the threshold of where the forest began to consume the light of day. She never went as far into the dark as she had the day Misty found her.

Cordelia leaned against a large rock with her arms hugged around her body and trembling from the noises of the forest. She looked relieved, when she saw Misty.

"Your mama says you gotta stop runnin' out here." She dropped to the ground beside Cordelia and started examining her hands for cuts. Cordelia might be graceful like no other, but not when she ran.

"I'm okay Misty. I know I shouldn't do it, but I just couldn't… I'm sorry."

Misty shook her head to tell her to stop apologizing. She didn't mind the free trips home.

"Can we wait five minutes before we go?"

Misty nodded and lay back on the grass, recharging her energy with a hug from Mother Earth.

Five minutes later, she led Cordelia out by the hand and even as they reached the edge of the forest, Cordelia didn't let go. Misty liked holding her hand. It was soft, like only one of a city girl could be. Her own were roughened by nature and it made Cordelia's skin feel like silk in comparison. They walked like that, with Spalding behind then, shuffling the way he always did.

A boy Misty didn't know crossed their little parade and Misty felt Cordelia tense up beside her.

"Hey two-face, see you got a new pet", he yelled after them, as they passed. "Is she that hard to control, since the mute has to help you walk her?"

Misty turned and caught his mocking gaze. Cordelia pulled at her, but Misty ignored it, bared her teeth and snarled at the boy. His taunting expression abruptly changed into a less supercilious one. Misty wanted to jump at him and scratch that mean look off his face, and she might have, if Cordelia hadn't turned her back around.

"Don't, Misty, it won't do any good."

"What, does she have rabies or something?" The boy yelled, but Misty heard the jitter in his voice and she turned to snarl at him again.

"Misty stop it please. Go away Marvin! Misty, _please_." Misty stopped struggling and stood still. "He doesn't mean that, you're not-"

"He said mean thing 'bout you."

" _Oh_. Yes that, don't worry about it." Cordelia offered her a smile and tugged a strand of her hair behind her ear. When Spalding caught up to them – giving no sign that he planned to address the boy's bullying – Cordelia shot him a disgusted glance and pulled at Misty to get her walking. She followed.

O0O

Rumors spread like wildfire, but simple words of taunt spread even faster. Marvin started a trend that day and soon Misty became known as Cordelia's pet. Marvin wasn't the first kid Misty had snarled at. She did that often, when faced with people, who made Cordelia uncomfortable. And there were more than a few of those.

Misty didn't seem to mind. Once again she showed a complete disregard for anything anyone ever said about her – it was only when they insulted Cordelia that she lashed out and she did so with the ferocity of the feral child she was. Cordelia sometimes forgot, because she behaved more and more like a normal child under the roof of their house, but outside her inheritance from the forest became much clearer. A few times Cordelia even had to physically restrain her and beg at her to keep her from downright attacking bullies. She started avoiding places she knew others from her school would be, whenever they left the house. Misty preferred the forest anyway, so they snuck in there, whenever it was Spalding's turn to go with them. He wasn't one to tell on them.

The only problem was that her increasingly shy behavior made her more of a target at school.

"Mommy?" Cordelia asked at the table around Christmas. Misty was allowed to sit at the table now and she had mastered the knife and fork, but sometimes, when Fiona didn't see it, she picked the meat up with her hands instead. Now she put the fork down to look at Cordelia. Cordelia knew she sensed her nervous anticipation. They had developed a connection that allowed them a level of knowing each other no one else possessed. Not even Myrtle.

"Yes?"

"I was just thinking... After the holidays… Could I be homeschooled? I don't care much for my classmates. And then Misty could be in school with me?"

Fiona shook her head. "You can't just hide from the world, Cordelia. If you go to school at home, the whole world will go on without you. How do you expect you'll do later in life, taking over my company for instance, if you don't learn the basic social skills now?"

Cordelia's heart sank. All the arguments she had tried to form crumbled with that crease in her mom's forehead. She knew it meant that she had already lost. "I could still learn…" She said it while looking down at the table.

"I won't do it, Cordelia. You just need to toughen up and don't let them win. How about that Queenie, you talk to her, don't you?"

"Yes, sometimes…"

"So you'll talk to her. It'll all change, when you get older. Right now being foreign and special feels like a bad thing, but when you get older they will be all over you for it. Trust me. All the ways you feel different are your weapons to get back at them later in life. _Delphine_ , fill me up here."

Delphine rushed to from the corner, ever as sour and filled Fiona's glass with wine. Afterwards, she retreated to the corner again. Despite her being mostly silent too, when Fiona was present, she didn't give off the same aura of lurking as Spalding did. Her constant displeased expression took up some space of its own and made it feel like she was there, even if she didn't make herself noticed otherwise. She was harder to ignore, which Cordelia almost liked about her, if she overlooked the constant expression of discontent.

"What about Misty?" She asked then, though she didn't count on the girl to be the heavy stone in the argument. The formality of the adoption had not changed the way Fiona treated her.

"Well what about her? You're teaching her, aren't you? You're good at that. Personally I can't fathom where you get all that patience from, but Lord knows you have it."

"You really think so? That I'm good at teaching her?" Her eyes flickered from her mom to Misty, who nodded eagerly.

"Well she's eating at the table, isn't she? I even heard her count something the other day. And I know this one", she gestured towards Delphine, "is relieved you're not making her do it. Now here's something you're good at, Cordelia. Own up to it."

Cordelia blushed at the rare compliment. Suddenly shy, she looked down at her half empty plate.

"Thanks mommy."

"Now eat up. We can't sit here all night."

They finished the meal in silence, but Cordelia didn't mind today, because her mom had told her she was good at something and she sat amidst the silence enjoying the blossoming of an idea. She knew her mom had plans for her future, had hopes that she would someday follow her footsteps, so she didn't dare speaking the idea out loud, but it stayed with her nonetheless. The idea of teaching.

O0O

Delphine sometimes took a turn by the black part of town, when Madame sent her out shopping. She didn't much like being here – all the bad vibes, all the bad memories haunted her – but she hoped to catch a glimpse of Borquita. More often that not she went home disappointed.

Today she stopped dead.

So did her heart for a moment.

From afar she watched her youngest daughter, graceful and pretty as she was, walking down the street. The sight in itself only caused her a minimum of pain – Borquita was still enslaved at Laveau's to pay their debt after all – but she was unable to ignore the other thing. The thing that was holding her hand.

Borquita abruptly stopped too, as she caught Delphine staring. Her hand slid out of the black one she was holding and her body language spoke of shock. She knew she was in trouble.

She turned to the negro by her side, told him something and then left him alone on the sidewalk as she crossed the street.

"Mother, what are you doing here?"

"What is this my eyes are seeing, Borquita? Why are you doing this to me?"

"Oh", she shot a quick glance over her shoulder as if afraid the poison in Delphine's words had dropped him already. "Mother, Mason is a good man. He works for Miss Laveau too. You'd like him, if you could just see past your prejudi-"

"Don't tell me what I can and cannot do, child! These are not good people. I will not have my blood mingle with them. Working for them is far more than enough."

Borquita shot out her chin and said: "It's not that bad working for Miss Laveau. And it is better than starving. We need some way to get our savings back, don't we?"

Delphine offered her a mocking laughter. "Just wait until she locks you in that box, you foolish girl."

Her daughter didn't answer and Delphine used the silence to shoot another glance at the man. He was tall. Lean, muscular body underneath his shirt, she could tell that much from this distance. He was wise enough to give them peace. Maybe, Delphine thought, maybe Borquita was right. She would like him. If only the skin containing his soul didn't betray his low-born inheritance. If she could peel it off him and he still stood just as tall, he might be of a good soul, but she couldn't know that for sure. And just the thought of him touching her daughter, touching _her_ through her daughter… It was a vile thought.

"Have you consummated with him?"

First Borquita just looked shocked. Then she crossed her arms and put on that stubborn face, which had appeared on her face so often during her upbringing and on neither of her other children's.

"So what if I have?"

It was a blow to the chest. A hard one.

"You must end this. Instantly."

"No mother. I like him. Can't you see it from _my_ perspective for once?"

"There is only one way to look at this, Borquita! You have to turn away from this thing!" Delphine started to feel a lump of panic rising in her throat and it only grew with her daughter's protests.

"He's not a _thing,_ mother, he's Mason." Her rebellious face were fading and tears crawled into her voice now, but Delphine refused acknowledge them. "Please forgive me, mother, but I think I may love him."

The final blow. Delphine felt it like her heart crumbled at the sound of the words. She took a step back and shook her head as if the simple motion could erase the truth. "Then you are not my daughter anymore."

"Mother, _please_ …"

But Delphine turned her back and started walking home. She forgot all about the groceries, but her broken heart left no room for Fiona's cruel words and threats. When she left the house the second time, she stayed far away from Laveau's territory.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Thank you for all the kind words! Now I feel like I should explain Papa Legba a little, because in this fic he's not as much a solid being as he is a personification of death. He's a figure of speech of sorts, like the Grim Reaper. Thought I should mention it since this differs from both the show and the original legends. Anyway, enjoy!**

* * *

It was a late night of March. Cordelia was in the living room reading, while Misty sat on the floor, playing with a new plant she had brought in from the greenhouse. She said it needed some space of its own, so she placed it on the floor and spent hours just looking at it and fidgeting with the leaves. Her mere presence soothed Cordelia's troubled mind and she took to reading in the peace it gave her. She needed the distraction today. It had been an exceptionally bad day at work for her mom. She knew this, because Fiona was in the process of getting very drunk. She had started during dinner and the speed, at which she emptied her glasses of wine, told Cordelia that today was going to be one of those days.

Now she was somewhere upstairs. Cordelia knew she wouldn't be wandering off into town today. She had drunken her first glasses so fast she couldn't be bothered to go out. The haze was settling in too quickly.

Cordelia tried to work through the turmoil of her mom knocking things over and stumbling around on the second floor. She wanted to tell Delphine to go help her, but Delphine was nowhere to be found. Cordelia knew she had daughters and one of them still worked for her old employer, so she figured she was there. And it had to be critical for her to go to Spalding. She considered asking Misty to tell him, but thought it too silly to go through with. She convinced herself that he was probably watching her anyway. She believed he always was.

Cordelia bent down over her book and tried to ignore the noise. Misty was in another world, gazing at her plant, not one bit bothered. Cordelia envied her ability to shut the world out.

A loud crash ripped through the silence and this time it was so loud, it couldn't be ignored. It couldn't just be something getting knocked over. Cordelia jumped out of her chair and ran towards the staircase.

She stopped dead halfway through the hallway.

Fiona lay at the bottom, moaning in pain. There was blood on her forehead and as she clumsily reached for her head, red smeared out into her hair blonde, ruffled hair. A large vase, which must be the source of the noise, rolled around on the next level, threatening to tumble down after her. Earth and broken green were spread out on the stairs.

"Mommy!"

Cordelia ran to her, but she stopped a feet short, afraid to touch her. Fiona only groaned and fought to turn onto her back. Cordelia stared in horror at her right wrist. Wrists were not supposed to bend in that angle. An icy cold sense of dread started to spread from her stomach out into every corner of her being.

"Mommy, you're _hurt_!"

Fiona's eyes sought, tried to zoom in on Cordelia's face and it took much too long. The blood ran down in a single line over her cheekbone until she smeared this out too, leaving a gruesome amount of red on her pale face. She tried to move herself, but as soon as she put pressure on her broken wrist, the arm flinched away and she cried out. She almost fell down, but Cordelia reached forward to catch her. She felt her mom's body tremble with shock and adrenaline.

"I fell down, I… That goddamn _plant_." Her voice was slurred and she still wasn't able to focus. Her good hand clutched at Cordelia's and the tight grip frightened her. Out the corner of her eye, she found Spalding. He was standing there, tripping, looking at Cordelia as if begging her to do something. The tears burned in her throat and she struggled to think through it.

Misty came to stand beside Cordelia, a silent but comforting shadow. A small hand reached into hers and Cordelia turned towards her. Through her own eyes, blurred with tears, she saw that Misty's had no trace of fright. She had on a concentrated expression as her eyes quickly scanned Fiona, before meeting Cordelia's again.

"Misty, can you help her?"

The girl looked up at her, asking. They had promised not to tell Cordelia's mom.

"I mean it. Please heal her?"

Misty nodded. She let go of Cordelia's hand and took a careful step towards Fiona, who shied away from her intense gaze.

"Mommy, please don't move. Misty can help."

"Don't be stupid, girl, I need at hos-" She stopped talking as soon as Misty's little hand touched her face. Her eyes widened. Cordelia knew that she would feel a supernatural warmth blossom under Misty's touch and she tried to calm herself. Wipe away the tears. Misty would save her.

It took only a second to heal the head injury. Cordelia could even see the haze clear from her mom's eyes, just a little. She didn't say a word, when Misty let go of her and picked up the fractured arm.

With her gaze dead focused, Misty made a snap movement of her hands and Fiona screamed out, as the wrist popped back into its correct position. Cordelia gasped and took a step back. She had never seen Misty heal bones before. Fiona's chest heaved and she tried to pull her arm back, but either she was too weak or Misty was too strong. The girl didn't even flinch, but kept up her strange contact with the broken body part, even as her own body started to waver. The more energy Fiona regained, the less Misty seemed to have. For a moment her eyes fluttered and Cordelia thought she was going to faint. Cordelia skipped over and rested a hand at Misty's back and one at her arm to keep her upright. She felt oddly cold, Cordelia noticed, but she continued to stare at the wrist, until Fiona relaxed her shoulders and sighed. Then Misty loosened her grip and stumbled back into Cordelia's embrace.

Fiona pulled her hand back with a violent rush.

"Don't ever do that again!" She hissed at Misty, who backed out of Cordelia's loose embrace, but didn't say a word. She looked exhausted, but she kept eye contact. " _Christ_ , what _are_ you?"

Misty bowed her head and Cordelia thought she looked sad. "Just me, Mrs. Goode."

Fiona stared from one girl to the other with wild eyes.

"Somebody explain this to me!"

"Misty's a healer", Cordelia said in a quiet voice. "She healed me in the forest the first day I met her."

"You knew about this?" Fiona's expression was pure incredulity. She send Misty another appalled look, before she pierced Cordelia to the spot. "You knew and you didn't tell me?"

A lump gathered in Cordelia's throat, as she held her mom's furious stare. Misty came to her side again and took her hand. She felt stronger again. Cordelia bowed her head and looked at the floor.

"I was afraid you would sent her away", she admitted in a whisper.

"Trust me, I'm debating it!" Fiona got up then – clumsy still but more secure on her feet, as the fog of alcohol seemed to have lifted – and looked around the room, mumbling something about a kennel. When she started walking, panic caught Cordelia and she threw herself at her mom, fisting her hands in her dress.

"No mommy, please! She's my best friend! Mommy, please don't send her away!"

Fiona yanked her dress free.

"Not this mommy, mommy, mommy, you're driving me _insane_!" She stopped then and looked down at her daughter's tear soaked face. "Leave me alone now, I have to think. Spalding!"

The mute butler stepped out of the shadows that same moment, as if he had just been waiting for her to recover and summon him – or, Cordelia thought irrationally amidst her desperation, to devour his defenseless prey, when no one saw it. She shook the thought away.

"Get me an aspirin and a glass of water. And a phone."

"Please…"

Fiona shot her another glance and Cordelia silenced her prayer. Then FIona looked at Misty, who stood silent by Cordelia's side, staring right back, and finally back to Spalding.

"Get the phone. I need to call Myrtle."

O0O

Fiona sat in her chair in the living room with a diet soda – she had packed the liquor away for now – in her hands, waiting for Myrtle to be done tugging the girls in. She couldn't wrap her head around the incident with the stairs a couple of days ago. She was used to dealing with crisis, hell her goddamn job centered around it, but this… She had even went as far as paying her sister's plane ticket, just to get her here in a rush. Crazy as she was, Myrtle had a better handle on… oddities. _Magic_. She couldn't make herself say the word out loud. But was it that?

She recalled the sense of heat under her skin. Soothing, but out of this world. She had no other word for it.

Her daughter had called her a healer. She had made Cordelia tell her about every scrap the strange orphan had ever healed, made her explain it over and over, until her voice grew hoarse, but Fiona still didn't get it.

Myrtle finally entered the living room. She had on a quiet smile, which stifled as soon as she saw Fiona's face. She sat down on the couch to her left and settled in, as if for a story. Fiona supposed it was. One crazier than all those goddamn kiddie goodnight stories and the most insane part was that this one was true.

"Now will you tell me why you went out of your way to get me here in a blink? You know I love seeing the girls, but I have a job."

"I'm sure they can live without you for three days", Fiona snapped. She wanted to say more, but stopped herself. It would be so much easier to pick a fight, but she had to tell. She couldn't be alone with this… thing. This child.

"Something happened the other day… I fell down the stairs-"

"Oh _Lord_ , please tell me you were not drinking with Cordelia in the house!"

"Not the point Myrtle! Now shut up, this is important. I fell down and I hit my head and my wrist was… I was sure it was broken. It bend like…" Fiona felt her wrist as she explained, watched it as if afraid the spell would be over as soon as she talked about it. It had bent in such an awful direction. "And then that little _thing_. That kid! She touched my face and I felt this strange warmth and then it stopped hurting. Myrtle, she popped my wrist back into place! It hurt like a slap of Papa Legba, but then that warmth again and it was gone! I know it sounds insane, but I'm telling you it's true. And Cordelia, she has known it the whole time! I'm not even sure, if I _understand_ what happened and I don't know what to do with it!"

Myrtle carefully adjusted her glasses before looking at Fiona again.

"I think we best keep it to ourselves. For the sake of the child."

Fiona stared at her. " _You_ know?"

"Yes sister, I know. They showed me the first time I met Misty."

Fiona couldn't sit down anymore. She flicked her wrist at Delphine, who disappeared and came back moments later with a glass of wine. Fiona had made a silent promise to cut back on the drinking, but this was too much for her to handle sober. Myrtle opened her mouth to speak, but Fiona silenced her with another wave of her hand and drank half the glass, before she felt calm enough to face the room again.

"Do you realize you're leading on a dangerous route here?"

Fiona ignored the question. "Why would she tell you and not me?" She demanded instead.

Myrtle rolled her eyes. It was not something she did often; it was a gesture almost exclusively reserved for Fiona and she hated sharing.

"Why, I don't know sister, let's evaluate your reaction, shall we? I have a vague suspicion that has something to do with it."

"Don't play clever. We both know you're not."

"Cleverness is many things, Fiona. I may not have your talent for manipulation or know what to say to win a case, but I know your daughter and I know you. You don't handle things, you cannot understand, very well."

"Oh and you understand it?" Fiona walked to the window, too agitated to look at Myrtle. Hearing her voice so calm, so full of superiority for getting _her_ daughter's attention the most was threatening to pull her apart at the seems.

"I can't say that I do. But I accept it. And you need to do the same, if you want to keep them both."

"Who says I do?" Fiona spun around, so fast a drop of wine jumped from the glass. "Who says I want that little witch child? I never did, I only did it-"

"For Cordelia. Yes. Because this is her only friend and you know it."

"Can't _you_ take her?"

Myrtle laughed. She was the only one Fiona knew who could laugh and sound sad at the same time. Fiona resisted the urge to throw her glass in frustration.

"Take Misty with me? Darling, I live in New York. In a broom closet, remember? My late husband didn't leave me quite as much as one could have hoped. I have no resources to care for a child. She is an extraordinary girl, but she can't survive on adoration alone. And it would be cruel to separate the girls now. Don't you see how close they are? One moves, so does the other. Keep them together sister, it's what's best."

Fiona scowled and sat down again. Took a sip of wine. Myrtle leaned back into the chair, relaxed now that she knew she had won. Fiona remembered the desperate look on Cordelia's face at the thought of losing Misty.

"So you'll keep her here?"

Fiona nodded without a word.

"Good. Now, Delphine?" Myrtle turned her head as the maid came in. She didn't look as sour today, Fiona noticed. Maybe she just enjoyed watching Fiona lose. "I would like a glass of whatever my sister's drinking. She can't possibly have emptied it already!"

O0O

Misty was out in the garden, when he came running by. She sat by the greenhouse, counting flowers – Cordelia had told her how to add up the yellow ones with the white ones and she liked math better, when she could do it outside – when a shadow tumbled by. He was running away, from what she didn't know, but the fear shone from his body. Misty craned her neck to follow him. He was outside the perimeter of their house. Misty didn't know the neighbors, apart from what their faces looked like, but she didn't believe any of them could inspire this amount of terror in anyone.

As she watched him, he lost his balance and tumbled to the ground. He fell behind their neatly cut hedge and Misty could no longer see him. But she could hear him cry out.

He was hurt.

Misty got up. Pain called to her like a siren calls a man to the waters. She could not ignore it. Cordelia could sometimes steal her focus, which was how she had kept Misty from using her ability in Fiona's presence before, but Cordelia was not home from school yet. She would be very soon, but for once, Misty had something else on her mind.

She went around the house and out on the street. She was rarely here alone, but she knew the surroundings well enough to find him.

The man was barely conscious. He lay with one arm stretch out in front of him, as if this arm had broken away under him, when he tried to break his fall. He whimpered in a thin voice and his eyes were barely open. Misty saw his injuries next. A nasty cut over his shoulder and blood all over his shoes, as if their insides were flooded. There was a rough looking wound on his forehead too and it's mirror on the pavement. His eyes were wild with fear as he watched her come closer.

Misty crouched down in front of him. "It's okay. I'm here." This was what Cordelia usually told her, when she was scared of the foreign things at night. Misty mimicked her words and stroked the man's face with soft, gentle fingers. He closed his eyes and stopped whimpering. Misty noticed how his blood looked so dark. Yet when she picked it up with her fingers, it looked just as red as her own did. Maybe it was because his skin was so dark. Misty had never met a man with such dark skin before. And his hair was black, short and much more curly than her own. And that was saying something.

She laid a hand over his curly hair and felt the texture of it for a moment, before the energy started surging through her. By then she felt only _that_ and her mind zoned in on the wound in the man's head. It was deep; she could feel it. There was something underneath, which she couldn't reach. It was another wound, but it worked differently; the energy in her wouldn't touch it.

She had to leave it. His scalp was intact again and she moved on to the cut in his shoulder. This gave her no trouble.

The man had fallen unconscious and he didn't move, when Misty pulled his blood soaked shoe off to gain access to the last injury.

Misty froze in shock. There were two toes missing.

She felt her hands shake as she put the shoe down. It looked so wrong. A man doesn't just loose the two middle toes. Misty knew that much. She stared at the tortured foot. She couldn't grow toes back. She placed a hand to stop the bleeding, but that was all she could do.

This was how Cordelia found her.

"Misty!"

Misty heard her from a distance and looked up to see her run over. She was pale and her eyes darted from her to the unconscious man on the ground. They teared up as she watched him. "What happened? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. I saw him fall and I heard him screamin', so I tried to help him. Delia, why is his toes missin'?"

"I don't know", she said with a shaking voice. "I'll go get help, stay here with him!"

Misty sat down by him, waiting for Cordelia. His breathing was even and Misty knew that apart from what had happened to his head, which wouldn't let her fix it, he was okay now.

Cordelia came back moments later with Spalding.

"Mom isn't home yet and I can't find Delphine. Spalding, what should we do?" Cordelia looked up at him. He returned her gaze, but remained immobile. Then he looked at Misty, down at the man and up at her again. She understood his question.

"Okay I think. But I can't fix his head." She looked at Cordelia, who shook in her small frame and her eyes kept returning to his abused foot. "Inside?" Misty asked.

Cordelia tore her eyes away and nodded. "Spalding, can you carry him?"

Spalding nodded and moved closer to hike the man up on his shoulders. They started walking in a morbid parade towards the house.

"Delia?" Misty took her hand and pulled at her, so she would look somewhere other than at the foot, dangling on a lifeless leg down Spalding's back.

"Yes?" Her voice was a mere whisper.

"Why does his skin look different? And his hair?"

Cordelia finally looked at her, with wonder it seemed. Then her eyebrows lifted, as if she realized something.

"Oh he's just a black person. Some people are. Queenie, that girl I talk to sometimes, she's black too. We live in a white neighborhood, so of course you couldn't know that. We should get you out of the house more."

Misty nodded in understanding and looked at him again. Particularly his head, which rolled on Spalding's shoulder. "I hope he's gonna be okay."

Inside Cordelia directed Spalding to the couch, where they lay him down and Cordelia got him a glass of water. She also found a little bucket and a towel to wash his forehead.

He woke when she did so, and with a jolt. His eyes darted open, he sat up and looked around with confusion painted on his face.

"Where am I?" He asked.

"At the Goode house", Cordelia answered him in a polite, cautious voice. Misty could hear that she was still scared. "My name is Cordelia. What's yours?"

"It's… um… M- I…" He stopped himself and reached for his head, rubbing his forehead. Misty wasn't surprised, when he said: "I don't remember. My head is... It hurts, did I hit it?"

Cordelia looked at Misty and so did the man. Misty nodded.

Just then, Delphine came in from the kitchen. She froze in the doorway and stared at the new guest with wide eyes.

"Heavens! What is happening here?"

Cordelia started explaining everything in a rush and the man listened just as carefully as Delphine did. Misty couldn't decide which of the three looked most shocked.

"What do we do, Delphine? We need to call the hospital-"

"No!" She shook her head. "No, child, let me handle it. I believe I've seen this man before, when I visit my daughter, you see. I'll get him home, maybe that'll help jog his memory. If not I'll make sure his family calls for help."

"I don't know, Delphine. Maybe I should call my mom."

"Miss Cordelia, as the adult present, I must insist. Your mother has no time to deal with this, be sure of that! I'll get him home." All the while they talked, the man looked back and forth between them, misery becoming more and more clear on his face. Misty felt sorry for him, because she knew that what was in his head was hard to fix.

"I would like to get home, if you can show me, miss?" He said to Delphine. Her face pulled into a strange grimace and she gave him a tight nod.

"Spalding, help me support him", Delphine told Spalding, who shuffled forward to help the man to his feet. He hooked an arm around Spalding's shoulder and tried to walk, but the missing toes disrupted his balance.

"Thank you", he said and turned his head to Cordelia, as they reached the door. "I meant to say thank you for helping me. I hope I didn't scare you."

"It's quite alright. Get better", Cordelia told him. Misty waved as they left the house.

O0O

"Put him down here, Spalding", Delphine commanded. They were at the back of the house. The man dragged from Spalding's shoulder and whimpered on about who to ask first, when he got home and how did Delphine know him and could she help him figure everything out. Delphine didn't answer, but kept behind them both.

Spalding was a wonderful tool, she found. He had no will and he could be ordered around by anyone. She had him leading the vile thing in front of her and when they were safe from all eyes, Delphine was free to pick up one of the large rocks, which they used to block off the hedge, and smack the negro over the head. She used force, as she had learned this one could withstand a lot.

The vile thing tumbled to the ground yet again and Delphine winced at the sight. Maybe she should skin him and use him as a rug. The attic was horribly impersonal. And the he surely wouldn't run away again then.

"Now Spalding, haul him up the stairs and be sure not to make noise. And", she said this close to his face. "If you try to tell on me to your precious Fiona, I will cut something off you too. _And_ her."

His dull eyes came to life at that. The white of them became much too visible and he shook his head violently. A promise to keep quiet.

"Good. Get hauling."

He did as he was told, sending her disgusted looks, that she held no regard for. Delphine was ecstatic. She had managed to avoid a disaster. Had the Madame been home, surely he would have gone to the hospital and they would find out. It was another miracle that the vile thing had lost his memory and couldn't tell Miss Cordelia and her filthy little friend, what he had been running from.

She shoved Spalding out of the door, as soon as he had hanged the body, where it had run from. A nice, sturdy wooden wall with tight bands to fasten his arms and torso. She made sure they were extra tight this time. She shoved a piece of cloth in his mouth and the movement woke him up.

The haze of confusion lifted far quicker this time. As if his body remembered, what his mind couldn't. He started screaming, but the cloth muffled the sound.

"Now, Mason", Delphine said with a wide smile on her face. The negro stared back at her with panic rising like tears in his eyes. "Where were we?"


	7. Chapter 7

Myrtle watched the girls play in the garden from her spot on the porch of the Goode mansion, while sipping an Irish coffee. The doctor might have mentioned that alcohol would not improve her condition, quite the contrary, but maybe she was as drawn as her sister or maybe she just didn't want to care today. It was a warm summer day, the clouds had all evaporated and the sun bathed the scene before her. It hung low on the sky now and everything the beams touched turned to gold. Today was not the day to care.

"It's such a beautiful day! I could just sing out loud!"

"Don't you dare." Fiona tipped her sunglasses and gave Myrtle a warning look over the rim. Myrtle tsk'ed at her and settled back to watch the girls. It astounded her that time passed so quickly. Cordelia was already eleven. They assumed Misty was about eight, but they didn't know her birthday. Misty didn't seem much attached to the concept anyway. Even so, Cordelia and Misty had decided it was now the day were Misty had found Cordelia in the swamp. Myrtle thought to herself that it was a miracle, what had happened that day. Cordelia could not have asked for a better friend. They thrived in each other's company. Fiona said they spent every possible moment together – those being when Cordelia was not in school.

They sat on the blanket out there in the middle of the sea of grass and Cordelia taught Misty how to make a garland of flowers. The younger girl learned with eagerness and she watched Cordelia as if she was performing a minor wonder. Myrtle could watch them forever, see them interact and know that her beautiful young niece finally had that, which she had been craving for years, before Misty hopped into her life.

As if sensing her gaze, Cordelia looked up at Myrtle, waved and smiled. She shone when she smiled like that. Shone brighter than the rays of sun turning her golden hair alight.

"Well I'm getting another. Myrtle?"

Myrtle turned to her sister, who had finished her glass of wine. She had cut back since the incident with the stairs, Myrtle knew, but she couldn't quite kick the habit.

"No thanks, dear, I'm good. Too much and I can't sleep."

"Suit yourself. Delphine!" Nothing happened. "Delphine!" She shouted again. "Christ, that maid is impossible to get a hold of. I pay her too much. When did the servants get so sloppy around here?"

"Around the time you made cut in their paycheck, I imagine."

Fiona glanced at her with acid in her gaze, before heading in to do her own refill. Myrtle continued to gaze at the children. Misty got up to gather more flowers. The insecurity in her walk was gone by now and her manners were better than most children, Myrtle had encountered, thanks to Cordelia's efforts. She would always be a special girl. She talked different from them and she still held a deep mistrust to anything that wasn't nature, but she had adapted as well as a children of her creation possibly could. And she had read to Myrtle the other night, page after page of a small children's book. Cordelia sat just behind her then, smiling as if she could barely contain her pride.

Fiona slid into the chair beside Myrtle again, and Myrtle could feel her eyes on her face. She nodded at the children.

"They're a well-balanced pair, those two. Don't you find?"

Fiona let out a dry chuckle. "I don't know what they are. They're nothing like we were, Myrtle. They never fight, they never compete, they never even _bicker_." She took a sip of wine. "They don't act like sisters at all."

Just then, Misty returned with a handful of flowers. She sat down, cross-legged and dropped the flowers in a puddle between them. She drew one out from the puddle and tugged it behind Cordelia's ear. She said something Myrtle couldn't hear from this distance, but she could guess the nature of the words, when Cordelia smiled and tried to hide her face in her hair, the way she often did, when she blushed.

"No, you're quite right", Myrtle said. "It's a special kind of friendship. They are like… the youngest of lovers!"

Fiona scoffed and looked at her. "Lovers? That's vulgar, Myrtle, even for you."

Myrtle only shook her head. "No it isn't, dear. It's just children's love. Don't you see it?"

Fiona looked back at the two. Her gaze lingered for quite some time, before she shook her had a little and took another sip.

"Well, that little swamp witch is not getting my daughter, you hear me?"

O0O

Delphine was enjoying herself for the first time in years. Gone was the eternal bitterness, gone was even the angst of getting caught, which had plagued her the entire first year of her new hobby. She felt balanced, because she had found a way to channel all of the rotten emotions. She played them out now, on vile things, and her hands danced to the sound of their cries.

Mason had been tough, but he hadn't lasted more than a few months. Not many did. But luckily Laveau's territory were full of new ones. Delphine even fantasized about dragging Laveau herself in here someday. The queen of voodoo would be the jewel in her collection, her masterpiece.

She had not caught her yet. The black demon would rest on her throne at the other end of town, until the day Papa Legba knocked her off.

But Delphine did not despair at this. She had raised to a layer of emotions above petty regret. Their screams were her Zen.

She made sure to wake them before getting started. She wanted to see their faces, taste their fear in the air, read the terror from their eyes, while she worked. This one was quite new. She had caught him only two days prior. Spalding was great help with this and he never complained. Of course he didn't. The poor soul was too terrified that Delphine would strap the Madame to her board next time. He kept his lips sealed, lurked in the background and snuck out, when they started making noise. She never heard the door close.

This one started whimpering as soon as he saw her face. She smiled at him and placed the knife at his skin, ready to cut. She was almost done with this arm. His skin shone where the flesh was bared. Dried blood had clotted over it and on his nails, which she had left in place. They were little boats in a red ocean.

Peeling the skin of the vile things was her new outlet. She thought this a curious creation. With their outsides gone, one could even think they were not so different from her master race, but Delphine was not fooled. She was not blinded, as the rest of the world around her seemed to be, as especially her daughter was. Her daughter, who she no longer visited. It pained her, but the girl had to learn.

Her peace didn't last long. Madame was impatient and dear Spalding had taken it upon himself to help Delphine cover her doings up. This time without being asked. He took Delphine's threats very seriously.

He knocked a special way, so she always knew when it was him. Not that she thought Madame or Miss Cordelia would ever come up here. Only the other child's curiosity held a certain risk, but she could not reach the lock on this door. She might be growing fast, but she was not that tall yet. Delphine would deal with that issue, when she grew more. That was, if Madame didn't kick her out, like Delphine knew she wanted to. She hoped it.

Spalding's head peeked through the door. His face twisted with disgust, when he looked past Delphine, but for other reasons than Delphine, when she wrinkled her nose at the sight of these.

"Does she need me again?"

He nodded.

"Heavens, what is it now? Can't this woman ever do anything by herself?"

Spalding didn't answer of course, but the disapproving look in his lifeless eyes were unmistakable.

Delphine sighed deeply and turned to the vile thing.

"I'll be back. Be a good boy and keep quiet." She knew he would. She had cut out his tongue.

She waved Spalding away, went to the little extra room in the attic to change into a clean outfit and went down after him then.

She made dinner and watched the Goodes as they ate. Even the wild child was allowed to eat with them now. Her manners had gotten better at least. Not that it eased Delphine's wrinkled nose. Now this one truly looked like a decent human, if you disregarded the madness of her hair and only looked at her, when she was pleased – Delphine couldn't count the number of times the little savage had bared her teeth and growled at her. Her skin was pale. She didn't have the appearance of the vile things, but she was just that even so. Delphine had caught the talk around the house. Witch child. Bastard child, from what Delphine had learned of the little Misty knew of her childhood. She was not worthy of Delphine's services. Delphine had always hoped Madame would put her jokes to action and tie that little freak of nature to a tree in the back yard. Or chain her to her room.

Sadly, it never happened. Madame's jokes stayed jokes and Delphine had the suspicion it was thanks to Miss Cordelia. The girl looked at the witch child with endless adoration. Misty must have her bewitched, enchanted in some way. There was an unnatural bond between them, one that could have only been conjured by Misty's devilish powers. Healer, they called her. Heavens forbid. Her sweet nature towards Cordelia was nothing but a façade and Delphine refused to let the child touch her. She would rather bleed to death.

O0O

"It's very sweet of you to take a detour for me, sister." Myrtle sat a cup of tea in front of her and took a seat on the opposing chair. Her living room was half the size of Fiona's and Fiona felt claustrophobic after five minutes in Myrtle's tiny New York apartment. "Although I do hope you're not leaving the girls alone for too long."

"Can't I ever satisfy you, Myrtle?"

"How are the girls?"

"They're fine." They always seemed fine, when they were together. But Cordelia had come down with the flu not two hours Fiona after boarded the plane to New York, but what was she supposed to do? This was important. Her company was falling into economic troubles. Misty would do a better job taking care of her anyway. Fiona called home every morning and evening to demand report from Delphine and from Misty. The maid gave her the numbers on the thermometer and Misty gave her the actual insight to Cordelia's well being. Delphine could have done that too, but Fiona knew Misty would spent her every minute in the room with Cordelia, now that she was allowed, and Fiona was certain Cordelia would not try to be brave for her.

Fiona didn't tell Myrtle this. She hated that look of condemnation of her face. Honestly, Fiona was happy to get away for a few days. That little swamp rat was driving her crazy. Lately she had taken to snarl at the maid every time she saw her, as if the sour lump had done something to offend her. She didn't even talk to the child. And she had cheered up lately, but maybe that was the problem. Fiona tried to let the matter slide. She had given up on trying to understand Misty, even as she had grown older. She still felt like a stranger in the house.

Myrtle's voice broke the silence: "You seem heavy with thought?"

"It's that goddamn kid. She keeps harassing my maid and she's challenging me, I can feel it. She thinks I'm horrible. Now, she can _think_ whatever she wants, but I won't have that display of disrespect under my roof."

Myrtle took a sip of her cup. They were a hideous lime green. Much of Myrtle's apartment was bursting with colors, just like herself. Fiona always thought she looked terrible with that hair, red and frizzy. It stood out to every side as if she had come into too close contact with an outburst of electricity. But it suited her odd nature, Fiona wouldn't deny that. There was at least consistency to the madness.

"I think you only need to give her some space. They are both on their way to becoming teenagers! They will start pushing boundaries and trying to hand me the adoption papers is not going to change that."

"No, you've made it quite clear you do not wish to be of service. So much for your big heart, huh Myrtle?"

Myrtle sat down her cup and stared at her in disbelief. As the shock wore off, the familiar look of disapproval drew on her face.

"You know I would take her if I could. She's a lovely child!"

Fiona scoffed. "She's noisy and messy."

"You have a butler and a maid, Fiona. I'm sure you'll manage." Myrtle got up and cleaned the table again. She went for the kitchen, but unlike in Fiona's mansion this didn't bring her more than five steps away. Fiona chuckled at her aggressive steps and when Myrtle came back, Fiona greeted her with a provoking smirk.

"Jealousy doesn't suit you, sister. It's not my fault you live here in a box like this, with nothing but a curling iron and a theramin to your name. You know, I'm sure Misty would love that awful thing." She nodded at the device in the corner. She remembered how Myrtle used to practice on it as a child and she remembered the countless fights they had had, when Myrtle blamed her for its continuous disappearance. Fiona couldn't quite claim innocence in the matter.

Even her husband had liked it. He had tried to play it one of the few times they had visited Myrtle before his early death a few years after Cordelia was born. He was just as awful at it as Myrtle, but he thought it was funny. Odd man.

Myrtle shook her head.

"Insult me all you want, but you decided to take Misty in. Now you must own up to it."

Fiona didn't answer and they didn't touch the subject any more. When she left for Boston the following day, it was with same bittersweet mood as always. Myrtle promised to come visit as soon as she could and Fiona could never decide, if she was relieved that they lived so far apart or if she loathed it.

Conferences were something she had a handle on. She thrived under the destruction of the smaller agencies and she loved terrifying new competition. An uprising rival, Harrison Foxx greeted her in the hallway on her second day.

"Fiona Goode, I take it?" He said with a voice so cold she thought people around them shivered, as they walked by. As did the young boy shuffling after him. It didn't touch Fiona. She was used to it.

She let him shake her hand.

"You got that right. Now, you seem to have lost your name tag, Mr…"

"Foxx."

"Ah, a fox. The thief of the woods. Is that your strategy too, Mr. Foxx?" She flashed him a dashing smile, which he did not return. Fiona's eyes fell on the boy. A young kid, perhaps a year or two older than her Cordelia and with a touch of premature acne creeping out from the corners of his face. He was dressed just like his father, a black suit and polished shoes. He looked up at his older version with awe. Only a few times did he look at Fiona, and quickly shut his gaze down.

"Who's your little squire there?"

"This is my son, Hank", Harrison Foxx said and pushed the terrified kid out in front of him. "Brilliant mind. I plan to let him take over the company once I have placed myself on top. Sadly, his mother did not have room for him at home today, so I thought I would introduce him to the work. It's never too early to start."

Fiona nodded, studied the boy as Foxx spoke. The boy didn't dare hold her gaze for long, not even as his father bragged about him.

"Well, I look forward to see you fail", she said to him before meeting Harrison Foxx' eyes again to make sure he received the words too.

A tight smile curled his lip. "You have a child too, I believe? A daughter, if I'm not wrong?"

"Surprisingly, you're not. I do. Bright head too, but why wouldn't she be? I bet she could knock this one off his chair in a day. We'll see if she'll have to."

"You seem awfully sure of yourself, Mrs. Goode. Especially if we keep your failing economy in mind", he said with a smile that grew a little wider as Fiona's eyes narrowed. "Come, Hank." He patted his boy on the shoulder and little Hank flinched. "We must be on our way. Good luck with the company Fiona, I'm afraid you're going to need it."

They pushed past her and Fiona resisted the urge to hiss a comment after him. Wars were not won with comebacks like that. How did he know of her economic situation? Fiona tried to shake it off and headed for the conference room. Someone was getting fired when she returned home.

O0O

The house seemed so much quieter these few days, the halls so empty, now that Fiona was gone on her business trip and Cordelia bound to her bed. Misty only saw Spalding on rare occasions and when she did, he crept alongside the walls, hunched up and with a rapidly searching gaze, as if he was up to something. No one ever bothered to try and get an answer out of him. Misty had tried to ask him what was wrong once, but he ran away. As if he was afraid of her.

Delphine she only saw at meals. She always went around the house and vanished. Misty hadn't found out to where yet. It was a big house with many doors. And she didn't mind Delphine staying away. As Misty aged, she had become increasingly aware of the old maid's opinion of her. She never said it out loud, but Misty recalled those looks like ghosts in her memory. Hate had many faces, but their eyes always looked the same. She didn't tell Cordelia though, because she had enough to worry about. Misty had realized that she was a kind of girl, who always worried about something.

With all its inhabitants busied with something else, only Misty roamed the halls. Sometimes she would walk back and forth and explore what she hadn't discovered yet, but not these days. In Fiona's absence, she stayed mostly in Cordelia's room and tended to her. She brought her soup, read to her, or laid on her bed and kept her company, when she was awake, despite Cordelia's protests.

Now, she pushed through the door and placed a glass of fresh, cool water on Cordelia's nightstand. At first she thought Cordelia was asleep, but as she neared the bed, the girl turned her head and gave her a tired smile.

"Hey", she said.

"Hey. How you feelin'?" Misty crawled onto the bed again, as carefully as she could.

"Not so good."

Her eyes were heavy with exhaustion. The moist heat still hung over her and her forehead glistened with sweat. Misty put a hand onto her skin and felt the heat against her palm.

"Mmm, your hand is cold", Cordelia said and closed her eyes. Misty brought the other hand to her face as well and held them to Cordelia's feverish skin, until they lost the coolness. When she removed her hands, Cordelia opened her eyes again, a little more this time.

"Thanks, Misty. I can't believe you though, you shouldn't be in here. What if I get you sick too?"

Misty shook her head and cooled her hand on the glass, so she could put it back on Cordelia's cheek.

"You can't get me sick, silly. I'm a self-healer."

"You don't know if it works on diseases like this. Last time I was sick you got locked out of the room, remember?"

She did. She hated Fiona for a whole week and she would have torn the door down, if she didn't think it would have disturbed Cordelia too much. But this time Fiona was unable to keep her away. She had even trusted Misty to take care of Cordelia. This was why she swallowed her resentment and gave Fiona full report with polite words every time she called.

"Yeah. But I haven't gotten sick yet, right?"

Cordelia nodded slowly, drifting towards sleep again. "Right." She was fighting against her eyelids. She forced them open, when Misty pulled away.

"Read to me?" Cordelia asked. She tried to reach for the book on her nightstand, but she was too weak to complete the task and her arm gave up midair. Misty reached out and snapped it from the table. She put it beside her and took the glass of water instead. She held it to Cordelia, who looked at her with reluctance.

"Have to drink, Delia."

Cordelia gave in with a sigh and fought her way to an upright position with great effort. Misty scooted closer and put a hand on her back to support her. Her back was wet from sweating the fever out, but Misty didn't mind. She wouldn't think to waver, when Cordelia needed her.

When she couldn't drink anymore, Cordelia handed Misty the glass and collapsed against her body. Her head rested heavily near Misty's shoulder and the heat eluded from her with the damp smell of illness. And Misty felt awestruck somehow, that Cordelia leaned on her like this. When she settled back against the headboard, and exchanged the glass for the book, Cordelia only shaped herself after Misty's petite figure and settled in with her. Misty hooked an arm around her and smiled as Cordelia placed a hand over hers.

She started reading. She was getting better, and she could read whole children's books now. Cordelia had made Fiona get some for them and even though this was many levels below the stuff Cordelia normally read, she gladly listened to Misty's efforts. She just didn't listen long, because exhaustion overtook her fast and she fell asleep within minutes. Misty sat there with the sleeping girl for hours, felt her chest rise and fall and tried to synchronize her own breathing to it. She sat in the same position until her entire lower body went numb from lack of circulation and it was with great difficulty that she inched free. She tugged Cordelia back on the pillow, so her neck wouldn't get stiff from the awkward position. She barely even woke as Misty moved her. It felt almost subconscious, when her hands gripped loosely at Misty's clothes and as soon as she lay down, her hand unfisted. Misty gently brushed her hair out of her face. She didn't leave yet, but sat by Cordelia's side, watching over her. She liked having time to study her. No one could be sick and still look pretty like Cordelia.

Cordelia had another coughing fit then. Neither this could bring her back to full consciousness; she coughed and wheezed in her sleep. Fiona had forbidden Misty to heal the flu away. Misty thought it was because Fiona didn't trust her ability. Fiona never mentioned them, merely pretended they weren't there. But Misty couldn't listen to this and it was barely a conscious decision, when she reached out a hand and placed it on Cordelia's heaving chest. A small surge of energy was all it took and Cordelia's body relaxed. Her breathing came out a little lighter.

* * *

 **A/N: Btw just wanted to apologize if anyone feels too offended by Delphine, I would hate to put anyone off with her raging insanity. If so let me know and I'll keep it down. I was really debating how much I should go into character with her, and honestly, she creeps me out, but she makes for a good villain. Anyway, I'm here for practice so any note on how to do better is always appreciated :)**


	8. Chapter 8

Misty took another stroll around the house. She had learned to pass time, when Cordelia was at school, by satisfying her curiosity with every crook and corner the mansion and its grounds had to offer. As a child, the house always felt so foreign and so cold. Uninviting and hostile even. Now she had learned to adapt – just as she had in the forest, however easier that had been.

Cordelia was busier with her school now. It got harder as she got older – everything does, she often said and Misty supposed she was right – and her days longer, her homework more voluminous. Misty received very little homeschooling, but enough to her own mind. Books wasn't for her.

She was allowed to move freely in the greenhouse now without having to steal the keys from Spalding's pockets and she spent most of her time out there. She had grown almost an entire forest. She had brought a little bit of home in there and her old forest nest was but a distant memory now. It had been many years since she had lived out there and even the memories of it were fading. She could only recall glimpses. She had become a city girl. No, she had become a girl of this house, but she would never be like Cordelia or the girls in her class. And she didn't want to. She thought Cordelia liked that she was different too.

Some days she let plants be plants and wandered around the house instead. As she got older there were places she could no longer sneak into, but there were others she could. She could reach new door handles, open new cupboards. She was not yet as tall as the adults of the house, servants and master, but she was just as tall as Cordelia. She thought she would be taller someday. She liked the thought of that. As if it made up for the difference of their age.

Today Misty had found a new door. It happened sometimes in a place as big as this. She had moved around the basement a few times, but it held no exciting secrets. Only dust and old furniture. Fiona liked to keep up with the trends of interior design, she said – whatever that meant. Misty had sometimes spent hours lying on the old couch down there staring at the grey walls and gazing at spiders spinning the most beautiful patterns of silver web. She visited the basement often. She had, however, never been to the attic. And now she believed she had found the way in.

The first door was unlocked and Misty climbed the long staircase. She had the sense of walking a wry path through the entire house, encaged in a long wooden box. When she reached the top, the first thing she noticed was a shiny lock on the door handle. The handle itself was raised above the usual height and she had to stretch her arms to reach it. The effort was to no use, because all she could do was to dangle the heavy lock back and forth and appreciate the scraping noise as it rubbed against the wooden surface of the door.

Misty didn't give up. A lock on a door could not be the end of her adventure. There was something in there and she was curious. The forest never locked you out like this, she remembered, and this man made wall would not stop her from keeping up her favorite pastime. She looked for cracks in the door, anything to give her a hint of the content of the room.

"What do you think you're doing, child!" The sharp voice cut through her concentrated silence and made her jump. She looked over her shoulder to find Delphine marching up the stairs. She reached out as if to push Misty away, but changed her mind in the middle of the motion. Instead she took one step up and her corpulent body forced Misty out of the small space and a few steps down.

"You can't be up here! Have no one you told you this is mine?" Misty had never heard her hiss that way before. She was always annoyed or disgusted with her; Misty was a permanently source of displeasure to her for reasons she didn't know. But even so her voice was always even and polite.

"No", Misty said. She could feel the hostility coming off Delphine like a stench of sweat and it made her put on her most defiant face.

"No", Delphine repeated. "Of course no one tells you anything. You're no better than me. Now get out!"

Misty bared her teeth at her and snarled. It always brought at certain satisfaction to see Delphine cringe because of it. She did again today and then waved Misty off with her hand.

"Go away!"

Misty did. She knew she had no power over Delphine. The maid might serve her meals, but she didn't take commands from Misty. Misty didn't like to give commands anyhow, only today she wished she could make Delphine show her what was in her room.

She didn't tell Cordelia about the episode, when she finally came home. She had one of those days, where she said only little, ate only little and buried herself in schoolwork until evening. When she went to bed, it was with a troubled look on her face. Misty didn't sleep in her room as much as she did, when they were younger. Cordelia was becoming a woman, Fiona said, and it was not appropriate. But on days like this Misty snuck in there anyway, and put her own pillow down beside Cordelia's.

"What's wrong, Delia?" She asked, but Cordelia just smiled and said:

"Don't worry about it. It was just a long day." This was the kind of words Cordelia said to her mother, when she didn't feel like elaborating. Misty wondered, if Fiona even noticed the shadow in Cordelia's eyes, when she tried to brush her off.

"You can tell me, if you want", Misty said. And sometimes Cordelia did, but not today. She only smiled again and closed her eyes. Misty played with a strand of her long, blonde hair and listened for the time, when Cordelia's breathing grew slow and heavy with sleep.

The next day Misty tried the attic again. It was the way Delphine had hissed at her, as if she had been afraid Misty would see behind the door, more than anything. It made her curious.

The first door still wasn't locked and Misty climbed the stairs again, her pulse racing with excitement. She had to hurry so Delphine wouldn't catch her, before she had time to unlock the secret of the attic.

She searched the frame again with a pounding heart and a grin on her face. When she didn't find any crack or weakness of the hinges, she went for the bottom of the door. It was solid black under there and she couldn't see anything through the shallow gap between door and floor. But she did think she heard a ruffling noise. It only sparked her curiosity and she tried prying her hand through the gap. Maybe she could feel something in there.

Feel something she did. Her fingers touched a sticky substance on the floor, cold and not as thin as water, but close.

When she retracted her hand and looked at her fingers, her heart started beating faster. Only now it was followed by an icky heat rising into her throat.

There was blood on her fingers.

And angry steps on the stairs.

"Didn't I tell you to stay away?"

Misty spun around and hid her fingers in the folds of her dress. Delphine looked furious.

"Are you deaf too? Stay out of my business, _bastard_."

Misty didn't understand that word, only that it was aimed at her. Her upper lip curled, but she held back the snarl this time. If Delphine came too close, she would realize what Misty had found. Instead she bowed her head and said, as convincing as she could: "Sorry."

Before Delphine could say more, Misty rushed past her, down the stairs and out in the free air. She went to wash her fingers and her dress, where the blood had touched. Then she waited anxiously for Cordelia to come home.

O0O

Cordelia left the classroom as soon as the bell rang. She barely said goodbye to Queenie. She hated it, when Madison had time to throw words at her at the end of a day, because those were always the ones that stuck. She hurried off the school area, before the star of the class had realized she was gone. It was the safest way to avoid her. Cordelia couldn't wait until she started high school. It was only a year away and then she might be free of the vicious, pretty blonde, who always got the boys to like her and got them to turn their back on Cordelia. She wasn't even sure, if she _wanted_ the boys to pay attention to her the way they did Madison, but if they could at least look at her. Acknowledge she was there. She might still sound slightly different from them and she would never look a pretty as someone like Madison, but she was a part of the town now. She had been here for almost a decade, how much longer would it take them to accept her?

She walked home fast. She would get home before her mother, long enough to compose a face that didn't give her away. To Fiona anyway. Misty always seemed to know, but she didn't push, when Cordelia kept her silence. She often did. It was wrong of her to burden Misty with her problems, she who got to go to school. Her mother never caved on letting Misty come with her, only admitted to a few lectures at home to supplement what Cordelia had taught her. She was proud of that, having taught Misty to read and calculate. She didn't think anyone else in her class could do that. But of course Madison would just call her a nerd and see if such a trend didn't catch on within a single week of school. Cordelia didn't need more names.

She found Misty on the floor of her room, when she came home. Her face shone with news, as if she was bursting to say something. Misty rarely was.

"Hey? What is it? You look like you've swallowed seven alphabets."

"What's in the attic?" She asked. There was urgency in her voice as well.

It wasn't a question Cordelia had been expecting. She put down her school bag and began to unpack her books.

"Which one do you mean? I think there's more than one room up there."

"The one with the stairs from the back yard."

"Hm… I don't know, isn't that Delphine's room?"

Misty gave an eager nod and continued to stare at Cordelia, looking for more information. Her eyes looked wide and eager and she kept looking down at her fingers, as if there was something on them, Cordelia couldn't see.

"That's all I know, Misty. Why do you ask?"

Misty got to her feet and rushed to close the door. She looked down the hall before doing so. Cordelia let her books be and sat down to focus on whatever Misty was trying to tell her.

"Why are you acting so mysterious?"

"I think Delphine is hidin' somethin' up there." Her face took on graveness, which was a rare sight in Misty's ever so light features. "I found blood."

Cordelia creased her forehead. "What do you mean you found blood?"

Misty looked at her fingers again. "I was just curious, so I put my fingers under the door and when I took 'em out – blood! Delia, what if she has somethin' in there?"

"Delphine? Are you sure?" Her upset made Cordelia nervous. She knew their maid was hard on Misty, when she thought Cordelia didn't hear it, but Misty was insinuating something much more critical than harsh words and a hostile attitude.

Misty nodded. She had never looked more serious. But not scared, Cordelia noticed. If she had really found blood, shouldn't she be terrified?

"Are you sure it was blood? It wasn't just… water with something in it?"

"I know blood", Misty said with her grave voice, which made her sound much older than she was. "It was sticky, just like…" She made a motion with her fingers to emphasize her words. "What do we do, Delia?"

Cordelia rubbed her forehead instead of answering. Suddenly her head was spinning. She knew Misty wasn't fooling around, but she couldn't wrap her head around what that meant. Was there someone in their attic? Someone who was hurt? Misty kept pushing her with her gaze, demanding action.

"We'll tell my mother, when she gets home. She can get Delphine to open the door. Then we'll see."

Misty nodded, satisfied. "I'll keep an eye on Delphine until then." She turned to leave, but Cordelia stopped her.

"Can we stay in here until then?" Doubt or not, she didn't like the idea of Misty going only a step closer to the attic, if the circumstances were as severe as Misty implied.

Both of them were out of the room the second they heard the door open. But Cordelia had a feeling Misty's eagerness was a form of morbid curiosity, or perhaps that strange connection she had to everyone and everything that was hurt, whereas Cordelia only felt dread at the prospect of finding something.

"Mom, we have to tell you something!"

"Christ, can't I get both feet inside, before you attack me?" Fiona hung her coat and placed a hand at her hip, when she turned towards them.

"It's Delphine's room!" She held back the rest until she had made sure Delphine was nowhere nearby. "Misty found _blood_ by the door." Saying it out loud made the thought of it even more terrifying. Her heart pounded in her chest, as she passed her mother a silent plea to rid her of the dread.

"Do you hear what you're saying, Cordelia? Do you think this is a goddamn movie? If someone stored a dead body in my attic, I think I would know about it."

"I didn't say it was dead!" The whole conversation started to press on her guts the wrong way.

"Well if something has been bleeding up there all day, it sure as hell isn't alive. Stop making up these stories, you're too old for that."

"But Misty found it! And I believe her!"

Fiona sighed, rolled her eyes and cast a glance at Misty, as if to say 'you again'. Misty stared right back with the same grave expression, but didn't utter a word. Fiona scoffed.

"Of course you do. Can I get a cup of coffee first?"

"But mom!"

"All right, all right, if it'll make the both of you leave me alone. _Delphine_!"

Fiona waved them out of her way and marched through the house. She had to call twice before Delphine appeared.

"Working hard, are we? Whatever you're doing can wait. My daughter seems to think you're hiding something in your room that's bleeding on my floor, so will you kindly reveal your fine little loft, so I can have my peace of mind?"

Cordelia thought Delphine suddenly got a little paler. Now that she studied her, she noticed the shimmer in her skin, as if she'd been sweating profusely. The maid's eyes went to Misty, and some exchange went on between them. Cold air twirled from the contact.

"I don't have all day, Delphine."

She gathered herself and gave a tight nod. "Yes, Madame. Of course."

O0O

Misty kept a close eye on Delphine all the way there, debating what she might do to escape the inevitable. Cordelia walked beside her, anxiety eluding from every step. The initial nasty heat of fright Misty had felt had subsided now. She only wanted to know why Delphine was suddenly so aggressive. It must be some big, dark secret she had locked away in there. No other door in the house had such a lock.

And she wanted to know who or what that blood belonged to.

Fiona walked ahead and waved Delphine up the stairs. They all followed, Cordelia last.

As Delphine stuck the key in the lock, some of the unpleasant heat returned. In the heat of the moment, Misty was suddenly afraid that whatever had caused the bleeding, it was something she couldn't make better.

The door finally opened to the dense darkness of the attic. Delphine stepped inside and Misty hopped up two more steps to see better.

The light went on and revealed a room that was not as dusty but just as eventless as the basement. She went inside to take a better look, with a feeling of defeat pulsing through her system. The adrenalin hadn't quite died yet as she spun around the room, only to find a barren wooden space with a small table and a mobile wall to conceal a small chest with clothes and a mirror hung over a another small desk. On the other end was a large board with a few holes in it. Clothes hung from it to dry. Misty looked to the floor, but found it spotless. She looked extra by the door, but found nothing resembling blood. Confused, she looked from face to face, while feeling her fingers, as if the motion could conjure the blood back to the floor. She knew it had been there.

"Satisfied now?" Delphine snapped and gestured towards the empty room.

"Careful with that tone of yours, Delphine. Don't think I won't kick you back to Laveau, when I grow tired of your gloomy face. I hear she's short on workers these days."

Delphine hastily bowed her head. "I apologize, Madame. Little Misty here has just been on my nerves for a couple of days, if I may say it." Her eyes found Misty's and the wrath was bigger than ever.

"You may", Fiona said and her gaze found Misty too.

"Now _you_. Do me a favor and stop bothering my personnel, will you? Surely, there must be something more productive you can do with your time than daydreaming horror stories? Your homework for instance, after I kindly provided you with a teacher, so you don't disturb my daughter's education more than you have."

"Mom, she-"

"Quiet! Get out both of you. Go bother someone else. This day have been long enough."

"But why did she tell me not to go in here, if there's nothin'?" Misty blurted the words out and she didn't need Cordelia's sinking face to know she shouldn't have done that.

"Is my privacy too much to ask for, Madame? You told me I could have this room."

"Certainly not." Fiona turned to Misty again and her cold, hard eyes bored her way into Misty's skull. "That's enough out of you. Go to your room and stay there for the rest of the night. I don't want to look at you."

"Mom!"

"Do you want the punishment to include you?" Her tolerance neared the edge and they could all feel it.

"It's okay, Miss Cordelia", Misty said, and remembered to slip into the formal name to prevent further punishment. Cordelia quieted and Fiona strolled out of the room.

Misty shot another glance at the floor, before Delphine pushed them out.

"Little witch", Misty heard her hiss under her breath, just before the door slammed. Cordelia was already a few steps down. Misty knew she was not supposed to talk to her, but she caught her hand halfway down.

"You still believe me?"

Cordelia squeezed her hand and gave her a sympathetic smile. "I believe that you thought it was there. It's okay, Misty. Maybe you just imagined it?"

"I'm not makin' it up. I saw it."

Cordelia simply said: "Sometimes we see or hear things, that aren't really there. But at least no one was hurt, right?"

Misty surrendered the argument and nodded. Cordelia gave her hand another squeeze and let go. They parted ways outside as Misty went to endure her punishment.

Outside she found Spalding lurking around the corner of the building. He studied Misty as she went by and the intensity of it made her stop. She studied him back and noticed how he kept looking the way she had just come.

"You know somethin', don't you?"

He shook his head, violently so, but when the thin curtain of long, grey hair settled around his face, Misty looked into his eyes and thought they told a different story. She shot him another look before going to her room.

She soon forgot all about her conversation with Spalding. As the year went on, the whole episode went to the back of her mind. The harsh words didn't stick. She had received so many of these in her upbringing that she had started to filter them out. And as both the girls grew older, new thoughts took up space in Misty's head. They had much less to do with blood in the attic and more to do with the way Misty felt, when Cordelia squeezed her hand and smiled at her.


	9. Chapter 9

"Why don't you let the kid heal that awful cough of yours?" Fiona asked with annoyance the third time Myrtle had to excuse herself. Myrtle's eyes widened and she shot a horrified glance at the door, behind which Cordelia and Misty were sleeping.

"Not so loud. Think if the children heard you?"

"How long do you expect to hide it anyway? Myrtle, you look awful."

She gave Fiona a tired look. "Why, that's kind of you to say so, sister." She downed her tea like a shot of vodka and shook her head before filling up the cup.

"I don't what is most weird about you, your hair or your tea habits. People would think you're British. But I mean it, Myrtle, why don't you let her?"

"Because then it would be gone", Myrtle just said.

Fiona rolled her eyes. "Well congratulations. It took you forty years, but you've finally managed to mystify me completely."

Myrtle chuckled, a hoarse throaty sound that made Fiona wince. She got up and gestured towards the kitchen. "If you insist on talking about this, let's go to the kitchen."

Fiona shook her head at her sister, but got up anyway and followed her.

"If you want. But I doubt those five steps will make any difference."

"You forgot your tea, darling. And you can insult my home as much as you want, but let me remind you that you agreed to stay here."

"I did no such thing. Cordelia plagued me to no end. That's the only reason I'm not in a five star hotel with a glass of whisky right now." What annoyed her most about it was that Cordelia would have been fine with a hotel room, but after the flight from New Orleans to New York, Misty was a trembling wreck of nerves and neither of them had the heart to expose her to yet another foreign place. The girl was twelve now, but she shook like a terrified toddler the whole way. It would have been amusing, if it wasn't so convincing. Still, there was no way Fiona would admit to having been dictated by a twelve year old.

"If you say so, dear", Myrtle said and Fiona had a sneaking suspicion her cover had crumbled already. Misty had probably told Myrtle her own horrific version of the flight first chance she got.

Myrtle sat down by the small kitchen table and took another mouthful of tea. She was halfway done, before Fiona even sat down.

"Now spit it out."

Myrtle sighed. "If it was suddenly gone, everyone would start asking questions. My doctors above all. They monitor the progress frequently. And I haven't even begun chemotherapy. They are only warming up and taking measures. There is no way this thing can disappear by itself and all these questions comes back to Misty."

"So you're just gonna give up your life for that wild, little thing? _Why_?"

Myrtle's voice was mellow, calm and with no trace of fear, when she said: "I've lived enough. My life is nearing its winter anyway. If it is my time, I'll go with Papa Legba gladly, if it gives that poor child a chance for a normal life."

Fiona scoffed. "I think you're being selfish. You have a chance to get better, but instead you're content with leaving us for the sake of this one kid. What about Cordelia? Or me for that matter?"

Myrtle reached out and placed her hand over Fiona's. "You can't possibly imagine what such a revelation would mean for that little one. And there's still hope for me. The New York doctors are not idiots."

Fiona withdrew her hand and looked over her shoulder, back to the living room and door of the adjoining bedroom, where the girls were sleeping. The New York night sparkled with light behind the window glass.

"Is this why Cordelia likes you better than me? Martyrdom?"

"Oh no dear, she doesn't like me better. I'm just easier to talk to."

Fiona didn't answer. She kept staring into the dark room, until she was sure her face would not betray her. Myrtle spoke of death as if it was nothing and it made Fiona's skin crawl. Her life was in its winter. There were seven years between them. Was seven years an entire season? How long before Fiona stepped into autumn? Had she already? She briefly wondered what Cordelia would think of that. Myrtle insisted that neither of the girls had to know of the cancer in her body, and Fiona could easily picture Cordelia's face, when she found out. The quiet tears filling up her eyes, sticking there without falling out. The curling of her mouth. Fiona may believe that Myrtle was stupid for keeping these secrets, but she understood why. That face hurt like nothing else in this world. Fiona supposed it hurt more than lung cancer.

Myrtle kept quiet while Fiona lost herself in thoughts. It was similar to the way Misty acted around her daughter, she realized. Like they could read the mood around them and knew when to hold their tongue, despite their custom loudness. Her eyes fell on the theramin on a shelf in the corner of the room and she thought that despite the absolute lack of resemblance between herself and Misty, the child did share certain traits with Myrtle.

"I was right about the theramin, wasn't I?" Fiona said and thought it safe enough to turn around to face Myrtle again. "I'm surprised Misty didn't go to sleep with it. If I'm awoken by that hideous noise tomorrow it's out the window."

Myrtle chuckled with more throaty laughter. "I'll make sure to keep it down. Otherwise I'd be down to only a curling iron to my name. That's a poor legacy to leave you."

Though Fiona did not care for the morbid death jokes, she could not help but chuckle along. She thought perhaps it was time to start appreciating having Myrtle around.

O0O

Misty spread her hands out on the ground of their back yard. She watched as the grass bent and rose between her fingers, felt it tickle her palm. The few hours she had endured in those airplanes that flew them from here to Myrtle's place and back had made her miss the earth terribly.

She had done better on the flight back, willed herself to stop shaking and crunching Cordelia's fingers. She had tried to focus on the sweet, comforting words Cordelia had whispered to her along the way and had it been any other situation, this would have been enough. Cordelia's voice in her ear used to have a soothing effect on her that was borderline magical. But not when she was heist into the air in a rumbling box made of steel, that flew like an eagle, but was not alive.

It did not please Fiona, when Misty had vomited on her shoes.

Now she felt at ease again. She could hear the nature, the hum of summer around her and Cordelia's presence had regained its mesmerizing effect. She lay on the blanket beside Misty and looked up into the sky with a thoughtful gaze and with her hands folded behind her head. Her blonde, angelic hair spread out in a fan around her head and mixed with the grass. Misty thought it was a beautiful sight.

Aging had done a lot to her, Misty sometimes thought. Becoming a teenager made her look slightly more like her mother, but without the sneer in her face and the hard eyes. She only took the beauty. And she had traces of her own that Misty guessed must come from her father. Cordelia said Misty was looking older too, and she told her she was becoming more pretty with age. Misty thought the same of her. She had noticed how the shape of Cordelia's body was changing too, growing curvier. Not much though; she had a slim figure. Misty often heard Fiona tell her she was too skinny and she didn't eat enough. Misty thought she was perfect the way she was.

Sometimes she had the urge to reach out and touch her skin. Hold her hand or wrap an arm around her waist as she had done so thoughtlessly as a child. She refrained from it now. First of all, because Fiona had caught her do it one day not too long ago and given her a long speech on how that was no longer appropriate, but the second reason was the most important: It felt different now. It used to be for comfort, like the way they used to sleep together all tangled up to feel safer, but now it left her wanting more. What, she didn't know, but one touch never felt like enough. She didn't understand it and it scared her.

She stopped playing with the grass and turned to look at Cordelia, who was still staring upwards into the blue above them. Misty took to studying her face. She often tried to guess her thoughts and sometimes she could, but not today.

"What're you thinkin' 'bout?" She asked. Cordelia blinked a few times and then blushed with faint pink. She looked at Misty with a shy smile.

"I was just lost in thought."

"Yeah, I see that."

She gave a nervous snicker. "Oh it's just… something Madison said the other day- it wasn't an insult, don't worry", she added the latter before Misty could open her mouth. Misty was on edge in an instant, much too used to this Madison-girl's words finding their way past Cordelia's defenses. "Not directly anyway. We were talking about, well, boys. Madison says she has already kissed a bunch of boys. Of course she thinks all of us who haven't are just slow. I don't know, am I? She's a couple of months younger than me, but she'll be fifteen soon too. Maybe it's a good time." She shrugged from her horizontal position and added: "Queenie says she hasn't either. She always tells me no one will want to, because she's too fat – _she_ says that – but I don't see why a boy wouldn't want her. She's such a sweet, funny girl…" Cordelia fell silent and looked to the sky again. Her right hand started playing with a strand of her hair. "What do you think it's like?"

She looked to Misty, who shrugged. She had never given any thought to kissing. The only knowledge she had of it was from those movies Cordelia sometimes watched. She would notice how Cordelia's face grew soft or sometimes shone with a sense of yearning. Misty imagined it was something nice, some way to tell someone you like them.

"I don't know either. And I can't help but be afraid no one will ever want to kiss me. That they all think I'm too weird-looking."

"I think you're beautiful", Misty blurted out. "And I think they all wanna kiss you."

The new blush that rose in Cordelia's cheeks made Misty smile, an infectious one.

"You're the sweetest, Misty. What would I do without you?"

Misty shrugged again with a grin this time. "Don't know."

Cordelia smiled at her and closed her eyes. She gave a small sigh and her hand stopped its fidgeting. After a while her breathing slowed and Misty thought she was on the verge of falling asleep. It was a nice place to sleep, here in the summer sun on a warm Saturday. But Misty couldn't. Cordelia's musings had spawned one of her own.

Was that all kissing was? Showing someone you liked them? Because if so, Misty saw nothing wrong with these new intruding thoughts. She looked at Cordelia's sleeping face and for the first time her gaze fell to her lips. They had a pale, pink shade and they looked soft. They looked like something that would be nice to touch. Without thinking about it, Misty leaned in a little closer and the simple motion birthed a strange tingle in her stomach. She drew back immediately and mused over the sensation.

Simple as it seemed to Misty, she knew it wasn't so in reality. She knew Cordelia liked her in a way, but they never did these things. Kissing wasn't only an extension of affection.

Misty never told Cordelia about these thoughts she was beginning to have. She noticed how Fiona looked at her sometimes, when Misty couldn't keep from physical contact. Delphine gave her similar looks, but where Fiona's bore a warning, Delphine's was full of unequivocal disgust. At much as she liked to cross the hostile maid, she sensed she was out of bounce. So, Misty tried to keep her hands to herself unless Cordelia invited for a touch. It felt more allowed that way.

Several months later Cordelia pulled Misty aside after a party, she had attended the night before.

Misty invited her to tell what news she was apparently bursting with, blissfully unaware of the hit she was about to take.

"Well, I…" Cordelia blushed again and Misty's curiosity spiked. "Now I know. What it's like to kiss a boy."

Misty experienced the strangest kind of pain. It felt like a cut to the chest, but there was no physical wound she could put her hands to and fix. This one appeared within her chest. Misty was afraid Cordelia would see, so she put on her best smile and asked her how it was, all the while dreading the answer.

Cordelia snickered and made a grimace. "I'm not sure. Not as good as I imagined perhaps. I don't know him that well, and I don't know if I want to, but it's nice for once not to feel like an outsider."

It made Misty feel a little better, but did nothing to soothe the image of her with some faceless boy, exchanging this special gesture. She didn't know how to express this new, foreign kind of hurt and for just a moment, the longing for a mother flared up with all the pain. She longed for someone to turn to, someone who always had answers. But family was a washed out, abstract concept to Misty and she turned to the one thing that had always brought her comfort. She snuck out into their back yard and hid behind one of the large trees. This would do as her transmitter to the soul of Mother Earth. She had no clue where to begin, so she told the soul about Cordelia and the faceless boy.

"… I don't know what this feelin' is. It stings, but not like a sting of a bee or a cut. What is it? Mama help me. I think I'm feelin' somethin' I'm not supposed to. Delia's mom looks at me like I am. But I don't understand why it's so wrong?"

The cool autumn breeze caressed her face and tugged at her hair. Whispered to her without words that there was space for all her thoughts, if she wanted to be free of them.

"Everybody talks 'bout me as Delia's sister – when they don't call me 'pet' – 'cause that paper says so. But it doesn't feel like that. Fiona sometimes says that we're the weirdest sisters 'cause we don't fight and Delia always tells her we're not really sisters, but friends who live together. Does that mean she thinks same as me?"

The wind answered her, but offered no word of comfort. Still, it was soothing and though she was starting to feel cold after the hours of talking to the tree, she stayed a little longer.

O0O

Myrtle arrived at the Goode house yet another time. Cancer was not going to stop her from living. They had made a reasonable impact with radiation therapy now and she thought herself well enough to hide her sickness from the girls for a while longer.

The years made very little difference to the way she was greeted upon arrival. Fiona stayed in the door as always and Cordelia ran to her.

"Auntie Myrtle!" She threw her arms around Myrtle's neck and Myrtle made sure not to appear too fragile.

"Hello darling, is all well?"

Cordelia nodded and Myrtle pulled the other girl, who came up after Cordelia, into a hug as well.

"Always wonderful so see you girls! Come, friend, let's all go inside!" She gestured towards Spalding, who dragged her suitcase out of the car. She greeted her sister at the doorway and she did not miss the examining look she received, but she ignored it. No reason to kill the mood. If she was lucky she wouldn't have to tell them at all. She felt better already, one glowing girl on each side. Cordelia told her all about school as they settled into the living room. Misty had become more talkative over the years, but today she only sat and watched Myrtle with a strange curiosity. Myrtle didn't think strangeness to be an unusual quality, when it came to Misty. There was always a certain mystique to her, one that didn't fade as she aged and adapted to the world around her. It must be engraved in her very being, branded on her soul the day the lord granted her the special abilities.

"Now, what's this I hear about a boy?" Myrtle asked in a lower voice, once Fiona left the room. Cordelia snickered and blushed.

"It's nothing much anymore, Myrtle, just leave it be. I only kissed him a couple of times, but I don't know if it is anything."

Myrtle couldn't help peeking at Misty as Cordelia spoke. She curled up at the far end of the couch and fidgeted with a loose thread on her shirt. She looked up, when she felt Myrtle's eyes on her and the look on her face was unmistakable. It made Myrtle's old heart ache.

"Only time will tell, my darling. Now, I really can't miss my tea. Misty, dear, why don't you come help me with the cups?"

Misty nodded and followed Myrtle. She took out three cups, quiet all the while and her gaze focused on the porcelain. Myrtle went up behind her and squeezed her shoulders.

"Give it time, darling. She won't like this boy forever."

Misty flinched and looked up with wide eyes full of fright. Myrtle only nodded to emphasize her words.

"Please don't tell her", Misty whispered. Myrtle held a hand to her own chest; her heart could barely endure the sound of the girl's plea. How odd it was, that the only thing strong enough to scare the fierce wild child was her own feelings. That and airplanes.

"Don't you worry, dear child. Now let me see a smile, there's hope yet."

Misty gave her one and it stayed on for the remainder of the evening. She was a cheerful girl, luckily.

At night Myrtle woke to a coughing fit. The doctors had not succeeded in steam frying that out of her yet and she fought herself out of bed and down to the kitchen, while trying to choke the sound in a handkerchief. Tea soothed some of the ache in her throat and she rushed to get the water boiling. The cramps of her diaphragm, as the coughing fit wore on, made it almost impossible to control her movements. It made it hard to even stand. Sweat broke out on her forehead and she felt dizzy already.

"Let me help."

She had hoped for Fiona's voice, but it was Misty, who greeted her. Her chest tightened with sadness underneath the cramp at the sight she must be to Misty's young eyes. She wanted to tell the girl that she was fine and to go back to bed now, but she couldn't get a word out. Only when a small hand spread out on her back and the most peculiar sense of heat seeped from the touch, did her coughing stop. Myrtle suddenly realized what Misty was doing.

"Darling no, you must stop." She turned and folded her hand around the girl's tiny wrist. She wiped the sweat from her forehead and tried to catch Misty's eyes. Misty didn't look at her, as her eyes were zoned in on her chest.

"You're sick. Right in there. I can feel it." Her free arm reached out, but Myrtle halted that too. Only then did the haze of trance that Myrtle had seen only a couple of times before, lift from Misty's eyes and she looked up. Her eyes spoke a clear question.

"I can't let you do it, little one. You can't possibly know the consequences."

"But you're sick, Aunt Myrtle."

It made a greater impact on her to hear Misty say it than she thought it would have. All her work to keep it from the girls and she realized, she had not accounted for Misty's special connection to the broken body.

"I know I am, love. But things are not as simple as you may believe. Many people will question what happened if the sickness suddenly disappeared from my body. They could come for you and I can't let that happen." She cupped the girl's face. "You have something special, Misty, but you must be careful who you show it to. Not everyone will understand and people fear what they don't understand. That fear could hurt you. So you just let me handle this one myself. Don't waste your life on me, child."

"What about Cordelia?" Misty asked instead.

"Have you told her?"

Misty shook her head in Myrtle's hands.

"Good. We must keep each other's secrets then, won't we? She would only worry too much, if she knew now, don't you think?"

The girl nodded.

"I agree. So we won't tell her."

Misty worked herself out of Myrtle's hands and hugged her arms around her. A broken chuckle of surprise came out of Myrtle's throat and she bent down to kiss Misty's head.

"I don't want you to die", Misty mumbled into her layers of clothes.

"Oh sweet child, I'm not going to die anytime soon! They have me covered, don't you worry your pretty head! But if it happens…" She pulled Misty out at an arms length to make sure she had eye contact. "You'll take good care of my niece, won't you?"

Misty sniffled and nodded.

"Good. Now off to bed we go! It looks like tea won't be necessary after all."


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: I apologize for being a Little slow at the moment, I'm trying to juggle exams and writing here. But here's one for you, hope it'll keep you busy for a while. (I do apologize for spelling errors and I promise to go over it when I have more time). But thanks for reading, enjoy!**

* * *

Even the chill of winter couldn't keep Misty from the garden. The change of season didn't have much of an impact on her bond with nature. She still sometimes visited the forest, often in Cordelia's company, but while she and Fiona still fought, Cordelia no longer ran away to hide between the trees. This limited Misty's excuses to go there. Fiona didn't like that she strayed. Misty thought it was a strange thing to say, since Fiona never gave the impression she cared if Misty was there or not. Perhaps, Misty thought, she feared the swamps like so many others in town.

Today Misty settled for the backyard. She had taken to pour her heart out to the big, old tree out there quite a lot these months. She hated that there was something she couldn't tell Cordelia, but leaving her thoughts here, save between the old, crooked roots made her feel better. Now it was two things burdening her; her unrequited feelings that she didn't know how to deal with and Myrtle's sickness. She had caught Cordelia staring at Myrtle a few weeks ago, when she had a coughing fit, but when she mentioned it, Misty pretended she didn't know more than the other girl. She did it, because the concerned look on Cordelia's face told her Myrtle had been right. It was best to protect her.

Myrtle held up a nice façade too. She was always in good spirit, and made sure to keep Cordelia smiling. Misty too. She pulled her to the side on her last visit.

"I trust you've kept our secret, my darling?"

Misty nodded.

"Good. That's good." Myrtle corrected her glasses and gave Misty a serious look. "You're far too young to be burdened with these news, little one. I wasn't clever enough to keep it from you. But now that you know, I see no problem telling you that they are making progress, those fine New York doctors." She nodded to emphasize her own words and smiled. "You'll just see, I'll be up and flying before our Cordelia even suspects a thing!" Misty smiled along with her and liked that Myrtle called Cordelia _theirs_. Like she was Misty's too. Myrtle winked at her and said: "Now let's go drag her out of those heavy books, shall we?" Misty tagged along eagerly, always with a smile. But on the inside, just once in a while, the joy flipped to longing. She wished she had a mother like Myrtle. She wished she had had a mother at all.

This was also a thing she sometimes told the tree about.

On the way back from her confessions, her eyes fell on the door to the attic. Delphine's attic room. Misty suddenly remembered the incident a year or so ago. She recalled the blood. She had been so preoccupied with the torments of growing older and the developing capacity for complicated feelings that she had forgotten all about it. Now, morbid curiosity spiked again. She went to the door and listened. She would have to be careful, because if Delphine found her lurking again, she did not dare think of the trouble she would earn herself.

She heard nothing. Slowly she opened the door and snuck inside. Her heart gained speed again in the acknowledgement of this daunting quest. She _knew_ what she had seen and maybe this time she could gather more proof. Something Delphine couldn't swipe away in a few hours. The staircase was much darker this time. It had been early autumn, when she last climbed these stairs. It was a strange experience, because as she ascended the heights of the house it felt like walking up to a cave.

She found the same lock on the door, but this time she could reach it. She had grown several inches since she was last in here and this was the proof. The lock didn't dangle at the tip of her finger, but slipped into her hand, cold metal against her palm. But there was no way she would get it open, appropriate height or not. She was certain Spalding had a spare key – he had every key to every room in the house – but for now she would investigate from the outside.

With a pounding heart she slipped her fingers into the shallow space between door and floor, anxiously anticipating the same sticky feeling.

There was nothing. Only dry, dusty wood.

Disappointed, Misty withdrew her hand. She wasn't the most graceful girl and in the rough movement of doing so, she hit her head on the door rather hard. For just a moment every one of her senses pounded with pain and she rubbed the spot that was sure to grow a bump. She snarled at the door for good measure.

Then she heard something that made her shut up in an instant. It came from within the room. Muffled, and strained, but unmistakable. A whimper. Misty wasn't sure if it was a noise of a human or an animal, but whatever it was it was hurt. The whimper spoke of fright and agony. She dared not speak, but sat frozen with her pounding head pressed against the door, trying her best to concentrate on the tormented sound. It went on for a while, but gradually lost its voice. She couldn't be sure if it was a breeze through the wooden structure or even just her imagination spinning a tale, but she thought she heard deep, wheezing breaths.

As silently as she could she climbed down the stairs again. When she had checked that a certain someone hadn't noticed her, she ran.

She barged into Cordelia's room, found her sitting on her bed with a book. Her gaze flew up from the pages with a flinch.

"Misty! You startled me, what's the matter?"

"There's somethin' in the attic, Delia, in Delphine's room! I heard it!"

She would never want to make Cordelia nervous, but she had hoped for a shocked expression or a widening of eyes to tell her that Cordelia believed her, but all she got was a slightly insecure look. Cordelia bit her bottom lip and the hesitation before she answered told Misty exactly what words were on their way.

"Are you sure you heard right? It couldn't just be-"

"It's not the wind! I heard it whimper! I think it's a live man. Delia, you gotta believe me!" She pleaded her with her eyes and words, but Cordelia's face only became more apologetic. She didn't.

"But Misty, remember last time? You thought there was blood and there was nothing. Please don't start this again, Fiona will get really mad at you."

Misty's shoulders fell as she admitted her defeat. "You don't believe me."

Cordelia got out of bed and went to her. Placed a gentle hand on her arm.

"I believe that you think you heard something, but-"

"I'm not crazy!" Misty backed away. Most days light touches like this would trap Misty in a small cell of her own estranged emotions, but today she was too agitated to be caught. Cordelia looked hurt.

"Of course not. I didn't mean that."

"I'll prove it to you. Wait and see!" She spun on her heels and went for her own room. She shut the door behind her, didn't slam it so Fiona would hear down from her office, but hard enough that Cordelia got the point. It was very rare that Misty put any barrier between herself and Cordelia, but whenever she did, Cordelia always left her alone.

The next day Misty held watch. She had all day to do nothing and all day to spy on Delphine. Even when she knew the maid was in the house. She never took much notice of Misty and she wouldn't wonder where she went. Misty anticipated that Delphine would forget her and soon she would be so far from her mind that Delphine would let her guard down, when she went for the attic. It worked. When she had gone in a couple of hours ago, she barely looked around and Misty was free to watch her enter the hidden staircase from her spot behind the bushes. She was ready. The keys she had stolen from Spalding lay safe and sound in her fist and all she had to do was wait for Delphine to leave. Cordelia would be home from school any minute now and by then Misty might have proof for her.

There had been no cold air from Misty that morning before Cordelia left, but she could still see the guilt linger behind the other girl's eyes. She took it so hard, whenever Misty got mad. Misty thought she was so delicate; the tiniest rock could splinter her like a thin piece of crystal. She would always put on a smile, but Misty had learned to read the curves of those long ago.

Finally, the door opened. Misty's pulse raced as she watched Delphine walk around the house. There was a glow of content about her. Misty thought she radiated with sinister satisfaction.

This was it.

Misty crawled out of her cover and sprinted for the door. She looked twice to each side before going in. Now she started treading with careful steps. She didn't quite know what she would find. When she reached the top of the stairs, she thought whatever was in there might be able to hear her heartbeat, so violently as it pumped in her chest. She put her ear to the door.

It was there again. The whimper.

Misty started sorting through the keys. She thought the whimper got higher, more shrill as she went through the bundle. Spalding had a lot. The house was full of doors and she had been through most, but none of them as important to get through as this one. She thought of what Cordelia's face would look like, when she saw that Misty was right all along. But more importantly, she needed to get in, because an unknown source of pain were calling to her with the familiar song of a siren.

Finally. Misty unhinged the lock and set the door ajar. She peeked inside.

The lock hit the floor and Misty forgot all about Cordelia. The icky heat from her previous adventures crawled back up her throat with haste.

From the crack of the half-open door she saw a man, lit by the cold sun from a small window in the wry ceiling. She had never seen someone's skin being turned inside out before, but she couldn't help thinking that it must look a bit like this.

Before she could think another thought, she had pushed through the door and run to the man's aid. He was so tortured it brought tears to her eyes. She didn't know where to start making him better.

His hands bled form the nails hammered through his open hands to hold them to the board, the band that kept the rest of his body tight in its place was soaked with his blood. A pool of the same sticky red lay at his feet seeping now from a foot in a fashion Misty had encountered once before. There were so many cuts in his skin they couldn't be counted and a large portion of skin was missing from his chest. It shone with a gruesome light against his dark skin.

He wasn't much awake, Misty noticed. His eyes fluttered and the whimper he made – choked down by a piece of cloth in his mouth – was a sound he eluded only half conscious. Only when Misty put a hand to his massacred skin did his eyes fly open and he started whimpering as loud as the gag allowed, all the while trying to move away.

"Don't move, I'm gonna heal you", Misty said. The fright faded from her mind and body, as she allowed herself to be consumed by the trance of healing. She met his eyes once and registered his panic turning to confusion, before she focused at the task at hand. She let the energy surge through her into the man's skin, felt it close up and mend. She pulled his hand through the nail in a quick motion, blocked out his scream and mended the hole. She healed the cuts as they appeared under her palm, when her hands traveled towards the middle and she stopped for a moment before touching the pink, exposed flesh. She gathered her strength. The man shrieked, when she touched it, but he kept still, perhaps sensing that she was helping. Misty was too concentrated to notice sound above that. This wound was more stubborn and she felt lightheaded now. She didn't hear the slight change in the tone of his shriek and she didn't hear the intruder before it had a hand in her hair and ripped her backwards. Before Misty could sense anything but shock and the sudden sharp, blinding pain, there was a knife to her throat.

" _How dare you_?" Delphine hissed in her ear. Misty had never heard her sound like this before, so manic, so furious her voice sounded more animal than human. "How dare you sneak back in here and ruin my work, you filthy little witch!"

Misty tried to scream, but the point of the knife pressed deeper into the hollow of her throat and she stopped. She didn't dare kick out, afraid the movement would hurt herself the most. She knew what a cut to the throat would mean.

The maid drew her breaths in uneven, labored drags. When Misty regained vision through the agony of the hand clutching by the root of her hair, she had Delphine's eyes right on her. The gaze mirrored the insanity in her voice.

"I could slice you up," she said through clenched teeth. "I would, if I didn't if I didn't think Madame would have my head for it. I would take you up the middle, right here." She dragged the blade down Misty's chest and torso, the point just touching. The icky heat filled up Misty's entire body. Delphine smiled a hideous smile. "Right open", she said. "See if you could heal that before your guts hit the floor, you little freak of nature!"

Misty snarled. It was all she dared do, while her mind raced for a way out. But Delphine's grasp was too tight and now she smiled.

"But…" She said and the edge of the knife trailed a sharper pattern back up Misty's skinny form. "I suppose you'll run along and tattle anyway."

O0O

Cordelia dreaded coming home that day. The look of disappointment on Misty's face from the night before still lingered just behind her eyelids. The look of hurt and defeat on her face had haunted Cordelia all night and the day too. But how could she believe it? Misty had a vivid imagination; she talked to plants and communicated with the wind, and while her thoughts often seemed light, her brain could just as easily conjure up darkness, Cordelia was sure of it. Still, her voice rang in her ears now and though Misty had mentioned nothing of it this morning, it was still in the air. Cordelia had fled to school and now she dreaded what emotion she would have to face at home.

It was an early day and there was still light in the sky. The wind was chilly and it always seemed colder on such days as this. As Cordelia pushed the door open, she wondered if Misty would even greet her.

She took plenty of time taking off her coat and shoes, hoping the girl was just being slow. Her heart pounded a little harder with each empty second. After a couple of minutes she accepted that Misty wasn't coming down and Cordelia's heart sank deep in her chest. Misty knew what time she was home. Misty knew her schedule as well as she did herself. She stayed away on purpose.

Cordelia blinked a tear away, angry with herself. It was no use getting upset already. She would simply have to find Misty and set it straight. She needed them to be okay, she couldn't gather any coherent thought until then, never mind concentration on schoolwork.

Misty was harder to find than she expected. After searching her room, Cordelia's own room, the kitchen and the garden, Cordelia's anxiety began to take over. This was odd. Offended or not, hurt or not, Misty never hid. Cordelia remember one time prior, where they had had something close to a fight, because Cordelia had gone on a date with that boy Misty seemed to hate instead of staying home for a movie, as she had promised. Misty had slammed the door in equal manner, but the day after she came to Cordelia and declared without further do, that should both apologize.

"I'll apologize for makin' a big deal outta nothin' if you apologize for not keepin' our deal", she had said. And they did. End of story. She hadn't hidden away, she had come straight for Cordelia the first chance she got. Now the boy was long over and so was the fight. Cordelia couldn't help feeling like something was terribly wrong today.

She searched all the rooms she could think that Misty would visit. She called for her, but no answer came. She even found Spalding to ask, but as usual the butler was of no help, when the task didn't involve chauffeuring her somewhere or move heavy objects. He only shook his head.

Cordelia sighed. "Well, let me know if you do." She turned around to leave, when his hand touched her shoulder. She flinched away from the touch and turned to him again, forehead creased and a shiver lingering just beneath her skin.

"What is it?"

He started miming his sentence. He gestured to his pocket and did a motion of his hand that Cordelia finally understood meant 'key'. Then he turned his palms downside up.

"Your keys are gone?" He nodded. "But what does that-wait, did Misty steal your keys again?" He nodded eagerly. He didn't even look mad, but rather happy that she had solved his puzzle.

Then it dawned her, where Misty must be. The only place she could prove her story to Cordelia, just as she promised she would.

Cordelia left Spalding and ran outside to the door that led to Delphine's attic chamber. With a little luck she could manage to stop Misty, before she got herself into piles of trouble.

She opened the first door and from the first step on the staircase, the atmosphere changed. It was the strangest sensation, this feeling that blossomed in her chest. She could hear a voice up there that she thought was Delphine's, but it almost didn't sound like her. Her tone was what changed the air. The sense of dread that Cordelia had felt upon coming home returned, but in a new and darker shade. Something was wrong. Instead of running up the stairs, Cordelia tiptoed. She made sure her steps didn't make any noise, because a voice told her she had to be careful now. Almost no light came from the attic, only the voice carried in the wind. She couldn't make out the words, but the sound of them make Cordelia's blood freeze in her veins.

Finally she reached the last step and her hand flew to her mouth.

The scene hit her with such horrific intensity, she didn't know what terrified her the most: The tortured man with one hand nailed to the wooden board at the end, Delphine's threatening stance or the knife that travelled up Misty's torso.

It was too late to stop the scream. The hand wasn't quick enough. It barely sounded like her own voice and as much as it shocked herself, it did a worse number on the three in the room. Delphine shouted and turned, Misty exclaimed a half-choked whimper and the foreign man's head snapped up. Then Delphine made a blind swing and jammed the knife into Misty's shoulder and Cordelia's scream cut off into silent panic. Misty cried out and stumbled back on the floor. The knife slid out of her body and stayed in Delphine's grasp, but she didn't have time to swing again. In the turmoil of the sudden interruption the man on the board tore his trapped hand off the nail and with a bone-rattling roar of pain, he threw himself over Delphine. They tumbled to the floor and rolled once before Cordelia could start to even comprehend what was happening.

Her eyes could only focus on Misty on the ground and the glimpse of red near her throat.

"Misty!"

Her head snapped up and she locked eyes with Cordelia for a second.

"Delia, run!" But Cordelia was frozen to the spot. Misty looked to the side where the chaos of arms and legs was beginning to untangle. The man pushed a mad, disoriented Delphine into the corner and got up. He saw Misty. In one fluid motion, he hauled her up from the floor and sprinted towards the door, where Cordelia still stood.

"Move girl!" He shouted at her and she jumped aside just in time for him to get out. He sat Misty down beside Cordelia, who hastily pulled her in and clutched the girl's trembling frame into her. It was all she could think to do. He slammed the door shut. "Doesn't it lock?" He looked at them both, eyes wide and pleading.

Misty regained focus: "The lock! I dropped it… here!" She bend to pick it up and he snapped it from her hands. Her hooked it around the metal and clicked in shut.

"There", he said. He panted and looked at the door for a moment as if it was his savior. Then he looked to Misty. On the narrow staircase there was barely room for them both on the top step and he didn't have to reach far to grasp her hands. "Thank you. _Thank you_. That woman… You have no idea. Are you hurt?"

Misty shook her head. "I'm okay. But you're not. I didn't finish." She wiggled her hand free from his and touched his chest. Cordelia hadn't had time to study the extend of his injury but seeing it up close, even in the half light of the darkened staircase it looked so gruesome her stomach turned twice. A small net of new pink skin had started to form and now more was growing under Misty's hands. It was the strangest sight, so powerful Cordelia had to look away, in fear she would throw up. She wanted to rip Misty away and hug her tight, but she knew better than to interrupt.

At movement Cordelia looked again. The man had started to move down the stairs. It was the noises from the room, which had him on his feet.

"I'm not done. I can help-"

He stopped her. "I'm grateful. You must be some angel. But I can't be here, I'm sorry. I have to go. So should you." He looked at both of them. Cordelia felt the terror she felt reflected in his eyes. "I'm sorry", he said again, before he turned and ran away.

Just then Delphine's heavy body slammed against the other side of the door. Misty gasped and Cordelia screamed again. Tears, that had been too afraid to jump before, sprang from her eyes.

"Let me out you foolish little bastard!"

"Come", Misty breathed and dragged Cordelia down by the hand. She led them out into the back yard and closed the door. They couldn't hear Delphine anymore.

"I'm so sorry Misty! I'm so sorry I didn't believe you! You _are_ hurt, and it's all my fault!" There was a deep horizontal cut tracing Misty's left collarbone and Cordelia reached out a shaky hand for it. She put a finger to Misty's exposed skin just below it, as if to make sure she could still be touched without crumbling to the ground. The more she looked at it, the more it felt like she herself was being cut open.

"It's not as bad as it looks. It's healin' from the inside, I can feel it." Misty's voice was calmer already, but Cordelia's hand only trembled more. The blood that had run down to the edge of Misty's dress now colored two of Cordelia's fingers. Misty's hand closed around hers and kept it steady.

"I'm okay now, Delia, I promise. And it's not your fault Delphine's crazy." She looked Cordelia right in the eye when she said this, but the guilt didn't quite vanish.

"I should have believed you. It was true back then too, wasn't it?"

Misty only nodded. She would never gloat, but it only made Cordelia feel worse. She threw her arms around the younger girl and hugged her close. Misty's arms folded around her waist as Cordelia buried her face in wild, blonde curls.

"I'm still so sorry. I'll never doubt you again", she whispered. She felt the embrace tighten and it was as if Misty absorbed the shivers of fright and tremble of her crying. Cordelia didn't want to let go. When she finally did, the beginnings of a smile was back on Misty's face. She didn't unhook her arms from Cordelia's waist, when she turned her head to look at the door that had started it all.

"What're we gonna do 'bout her?"

"We need to call the police. And my mother."

Misty nodded. Cordelia caught another glimpse of the cut. It didn't look so deep, now that she dared examine it. She dragged a finger over the upside of the collarbone and the skin withdrew beneath her finger as Misty inhaled a sharp breath.

"Are you sure you're okay? Doesn't it hurt?"

"No, it's nothin'. We should call, right?"

Cordelia nodded and smiled as she looked up. "I've never met anyone as tough as you."

Misty shrugged it off with a loop-sided smile and her arms untangled from Cordelia's body. They found Spalding ready with the phone is his hand.

O0O

Fiona broke a few traffic laws on the way home. She had only the car wheel to absorb her desperation and her whole hands were turning white from the tight grip. She wasn't sure which was the worst: The professional matter-of-fact tone, the police officer spoke in, when he told her why they were at her house, or the sound of her daughters shaking voice at the end of the call. She hated herself for being so goddamn blind. She would never be able to get the sound of Cordelia's fear out of her mind now. Above all of this she kept thinking that little squirrel was right. She was right and she had been for years. _Years_ was what infuriated Fiona the most.

She didn't bother to park the car properly before rushing into her front yard, which was alive with policemen.

"Where is my daughter?" She yelled at the first man in a uniform. He informed her in a calm voice that she and her sister were right inside and that her maid had been driven to the station already.

"Tell her not to get too comfortable, I assure you I will have my best prosecutors so far up her-"

"You're Fiona Goode, right?" The officer asked, unaffected by her fury. "Ya own that law firm downtown, ain't that right?" He shook his head once. "This ain't lookin' too good for ya ma'am. When this gets out…"

"Make me feel worse, why don't you?" She snapped and stormed inside. "Cordelia?"

"In here, mom." Cordelia's voice sounded steadier now, but still shaken. She could hear the shock, which lingered. Fiona thought it the best that the old ugly maid was already gone. If not the bloodbath had only just begun.

She found them in the living room. Cordelia appeared first, sitting on the couch and facing a police officer with his back to the hallway. She looked up when Fiona entered and the relief in her face threatened to choke Fiona. Beside her sat Misty, their arms touching and their fingers entwined. Fiona would have protested, if she didn't have more pressing issues. A line of red was carved across Misty's chest, right below her collarbone. She looked up too, as Fiona came in, but the look in her eyes were miles from Cordelia's. There was no fright, only reproach. Fiona added it to her mental list of things she would deal with after.

"What happened?" She demanded, looking from one to the other of the girls. The police officer opened his mouth, but she silenced him with a wave of her hand.

Cordelia told her how she had found Misty and Delphine in a much calmer version than the short recap she had gotten over the phone. When the tremble overtook her again, Misty continued. Her thumb rubbing over Cordelia's hand did not go unnoticed.

"… he pulled me out of the room and we locked her up in there. Then Delia called the police."

"She has quite the temper, your maid. Ripped the whole room apart", the officer chimed in as Misty finished.

"Is that supposed to be funny?"

He visibly cringed at her tone. "No ma'am, of course not. We got her under control and took her to the station. She's awaitin' trial now. I assume you will be pressing charges."

"Aren't you a clever one? Can you leave me alone with them?"

He nodded and got up. Fiona went around the small table and bent down to the two girls. Three blue and one brown eye stared back at her. "Are you okay? Both of you?"

Cordelia looked to Misty before answering. "Yes, we're okay."

"She never got to you?"

Cordelia shook her head. "She didn't get the chance. But she cut Misty. We thought if we left it, it could be more evidence to the police. They took a picture."

Fiona couldn't help a swell of pride. There was hope for her girl to take up a spot in her company after all. "Good. Now, this man, tell me about him."

A look of the deepest disgust came over Cordelia. She looked to Misty, who spoke: "He looked bad. I healed some of it, but didn't have time. He ran away. He was black just like that man back then. The one Delphine promised to take home."

"You remember him, mom?"

She did. Cordelia had told her how Delphine had taken it upon herself to get him home, confused as he was. Said she knew where he lived. Of course she did. He must have been one of Laveau's. The thought turned in her stomach. He had never made it further than their back yard. All those years. Fiona had to sit down. She needed a drink.

"Tell me, child, did you tell the police that you…"

"Healed him?" Misty offered. She shook her head. "No."

"We thought it was best."

Fiona nodded. "That's good. Keep it that way… You are sure, you're okay?" She looked at them both, made sure she got an approval. Fiona sighed and waved the officer back. Her insides screamed for alcohol and the quicker she could get it over with the better.

But first she had to see the attic.

"It's a crime scene, ma'am."

"It's my goddamn house, show me."

She found Spalding guarding the entrance and he looked absolutely overjoyed at the sight of her. She ordered him away and climbed the stairs. The insides of Delphine's chamber made her gut take another twirl and scream a little louder. She decided she owed Misty a big desert tonight.

Only when the chaos of police and the paramedics who – blissfully unaware – insisted on checking Misty had left, did she call her secretary on her home number.

"Cecily. I have a job for you. You are going to spent the next year of your life sorting through media and keeping this case as muted as possible. If I'm fired, so are you. You got me?"

"Are we pressing charges, Mrs. Goode?"

"Of course we're pressing charges, you water-brained imbecile. But keep it on the low, will you?"

Cecily promised. Fiona called to get Myrtle down and finally, when the girls fell asleep – she had allowed them the same room tonight, because Cordelia insisted – she sat down to empty a bottle of wine.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Sorry for the long wait! Thankfully now the exams are over and I'm celebrating by bringing you guys this, I hope you like it!**

* * *

The loud music from the Montgomery mansion let them right to the entrance. The beat from inside vibrated through the walls and seeped into their bones at the walked up the isle. The light stood out in multicolored beams from the windows. Cordelia looked down at Misty, who stared and craned her neck to get a glimpse of everything.

"Are you still up for this?"

Misty nodded and looked up at her. Her eyes were already growing twice as big from sucking in all the new impressions and an excited grin spread on her face. Cordelia returned the smile. She knew her mother would have her head for this, but she would take that later. She needed the distraction and she couldn't abandon Misty again.

"Alright here goes." She opened the front door and gestured for Misty to step inside the first party of her life. The sound hit them even harder from in here. They threw their coats where there was space and Cordelia guided Misty forward with a gentle hand on her back.

Life in high school was in many ways so similar to all her previous years of school and in other ways an entirely new world. She wasn't bullied anymore. Most of the faces were new and the few that remained had changed their ways. She could live with the haunting so long as the majority allowed her to start over. And they did. It gave her a strange sense of confidence, something she hadn't felt, well, ever. She even had enough of it to attend Madison's parties. While she was one of Cordelia's everlasting ghosts, she was also the town rich kid with a mansion even bigger than Fiona's mostly to herself and she knew how to throw a party. It was crammed with people. Only a fraction were people Cordelia knew, and it was easy to avoid the host. Madison was too busy bragging to everyone about her upcoming career in Hollywood to take notice of her peripheral guests.

Madison threw many open houses, because she was careless about the faces and because she could afford it. And Cordelia felt too bad to leave Misty home alone yet another evening. Cordelia wasn't the center of a party like Madison or her gang, but she did occasionally show up and tonight she wanted Misty to at least see this part of her new world. But more importantly, there was a part of her that didn't want to ever leave her alone again, after what happened the day of Delphine's arrest. Sometimes she couldn't stop her brain from going further down the line, imagine what would have happened, if she hadn't come home then. She hadn't been much help, it was the tortured man who saved Misty after all, despite his poor condition. Her scream had only set things in motion. But what if it hadn't? Would Delphine have killed Misty and the man both? She always stopped before she could imagine what that must look like, because the thought threatened to suffocate her.

Almost a year had passed since it happened, but it didn't feel like such, when the reminders were everywhere. Her mother's drinking, her constant struggle to keep them out of the media. The looks from everyone who knew just a word of the story. Even Myrtle's visits, which had been more frequent, bore a negative aftertaste, because she wouldn't stop talking about it. She insisted on getting every bit of the story, as if vivid details made her process better. On her first day there, she marched right to Laveau's house to offer condolences, but Laveau's rage hadn't settled yet and it ended with Myrtle being banned from the neighborhood. A nasty rumor ran along the streets that they had just _let_ it happen.

"People deal with indignities like this differently. It'll be over soon enough", Myrtle said. She didn't seem bothered at all that the furious rumor had hit her too. Cordelia didn't possess the same levity, not with all the looks she received a school now. The new classmates didn't bully, rarely even mentioned the scandal, but the old ones had new ammunition. They wasn't oblivious to the rumors and they had had years of practice with getting under Cordelia's skin. Luckily, Misty had a way of absorbing all her anxieties. The younger girl didn't seem to linger much with these painful memories. Something else was on her mind though. Cordelia could see it working behind the light in her eyes, but she never dared asking. It felt like it was a secret Misty didn't want to confess. Cordelia sometimes feared that Misty hadn't forgiven her for not believing her, but she insisted on holding her tongue, until the day Misty decided to share her thoughts. The day had yet to come.

Misty clung to her arm as they moved through the enormous hallway towards the center of the party, her neck still craning to see it all. Cordelia chuckled and enjoyed her excitement. Cordelia thought Misty would always be worlds away from every other girl she had ever met, but that didn't mean she shouldn't get the taste of normalcy.

The crowd tightened and Cordelia heard the talks, saw the looks at her and Misty – "What the hell is this kid doing here?" – but she didn't care. She was thrilled at the thought of combining her two worlds for one night. And she felt like she could handle the disproving looks and rude questions of curiosity better with Misty by her side.

Finally she caught a familiar face.

"Come on, Misty", she said. "I want you to meet my friend Queenie."

To Cordelia's immense relief, Queenie hadn't pushed her away, when she heard of the arrest. She waved the rumor off as crazy talk the second she heard it, and Cordelia thought it was nice that she might at least have one classmate, who never turned against her.

Queenie took up quite a bit of the bar space, where she stood and watched the crowd with a glass of something colorful in her hand, while sucking on the straw. When she saw Cordelia, she smiled and waved. Her forehead creased when her eyes fell on Misty.

"What the hell, Cordelia, why did you drag baby sis with you?"

"She's here as my friend, not my adoptive sister. I told you how it is."

Queenie eyed Misty again, who stared back at her with that look of examination, Cordelia knew she used when deciding whether or not to like a person. She had loosened her tight grip on Cordelia's arm until only a light touch remained near her wrist.

Queenie shrugged. "Yeah and I still don't get it. You know, whatever. Hey there Misty, nice to meet you."

Misty nodded. "Nice to meet you too."

"What do you know, she talks. You guys want something? It's all free! Should she even drink?" She looked at Misty as if taking measure of her. Queenie was a bit shorter than Cordelia, so she and Misty aligned. In some way it blurred the age difference that Misty was able to look back with equal measure.

Cordelia looked to Misty. "I'm sure a sip won't hurt. Do you want to try?"

"Yeah okay. What is it?"

"Bit of this, bit of that. What do you think, Cordelia?"

Cordelia picked out a drink for them both and handed a glass to Misty. She hesitated with her own, because she wanted to see Misty's reaction when she took her first sip. Misty eyed the red liquid in her glass with suspicion in her eyes and took a mouthful. She grimaced, squinted and held the drink away.

"Ew it's so sour!"

Queenie burst with laughter and held onto the bar to prevent from falling. "I love rookies. I'll give you, they ain't cheap with the lime. Or the Vodka. You're alright, kiddo."

Misty looked up to Cordelia, who smiled at her before raising her own glass and took a sip. It was a little sour and surely much different from the things Misty tasted. Cordelia had made a mental note to make sure Misty didn't have too much, but looking at her face, she knew she did not need to worry.

Cordelia kept Misty close as the hours grew, and the crowd grew bigger and boozier. They made their way around, usually followed by Queenie, sometimes alone and once Misty wandered off on her own to find the bathroom. Cordelia offered to go with her, but Misty only smiled and announced that she if she could work her way around the foxes and alligators in the forest, she could handle drunk people as well.

Cordelia leaned against a table, felt the alcohol starting to work its way into her body and watched the crowd. Marvin, a boy from middle school, appeared beside her.

"Hey Goode, was that your pet sister? Ain't she's like twelve or something? What the hell she doing here, huh? Couldn't get a sitter?"

Cordelia shot him a disapproving look. "She's fourteen. And she's not like the rest of you. I wouldn't be surprised if she's more mature than all of you combined."

"Uh getting all protective. You know I'm sure there are boys who're into that."

"Go away, Marvin. Don't think I've forgotten that you're scared of her."

He laughed – nervously so, she noticed – and left her. She scolded at his back as he did. Of all the boys who bothered to talk to her, it had to be one of her ghosts. Some of her new classmates had said they would be here too, but she hadn't found them yet. A familiar sense of discourage overtook her. She moved towards the hall, where the dancing and yelling subsided and where she was sure Misty could find her.

While waiting she couldn't help watching the guests hooking up in the corners of the hallway, pressed into the shades or leaning against the stairs. Suddenly Cordelia felt surrounded by boys and girls caught up in making out and Cordelia quietly wondered why she resumed to torture herself like this.

"What're you lookin' at, Delia?" Misty spoke to her as she reached the last step of the stairs and it made Cordelia flinch out of her trance. The alcohol was getting the better of her senses already.

"Them", she shrugged and nodded towards a couples. There was a couple right in front of them, only a few feet away. The boy had the girl locked in a tight embrace and Cordelia caught herself staring with envy.

"Why?"

She sighed. "I just want one of them to like me. Just someone."

" _I_ like you", Misty said. Cordelia turned her head with a smile. She brushed a hand against Misty's arm.

"I know. I like you too."

Misty turned her head away then and Cordelia was about to ask about that look on her face, when a voice cut through to her.

"Cordelia! There you are!" It was the voice of one of her new high school friends. Laura, a tall girl with short blonde hair, glasses and a brain that had saved Cordelia in math on multiple occasions, called out to her. She tried to make her way through the crowd, a mission that proved almost impossible. Cordelia felt a notch at her waist.

"Just go say hi. It's okay."

"You're sure?"

Misty nodded and offered her a smile. "Maybe I'll find Queenie again."

Cordelia promised to find her later and went to enjoy her fresh start.

O0O

Misty lost track of both Queenie and Cordelia rather quickly after Cordelia's high school friend showed up. She caught a glimpse of Cordelia occasionally, talking to that friend or dancing with people. She smiled a lot, but they were different smiles. Misty wasn't sure how, but they were. Her behavior was not the same here as it was at home, when it was just the two of them. Misty suspected some of it was alcohol; she had seen that change on Fiona many times. The swaying, the insecure steps, the carelessness. Misty didn't want that. She had left her drink somewhere and she did not intend to try to find it. She was glad Cordelia had introduced her to her world, but she would much rather be home. At home she didn't feel three years behind, but here she did.

Drunken teenagers, who didn't give anything for Misty's presence or who were perhaps too hazed to notice, stumbled by her constantly and made it hard to stay in one place. Instead of blending into a wall and watch 'her sister' as everyone kept saying, she decided to make an adventure out of it. She began exploring the house. That should keep her occupied for at least a couple of hours. She thought the Goode mansion was huge, but this one took the crown. She went through every room, apart from those that gave away certain noises, which told her she should keep out.

It was almost quiet on the second floor. The bass still vibrated through the floor, but the music was down the volume of a loud radio. She could separate it from her own thoughts and it didn't make her ears ring. She found people talking or kissing in every other corner she saw and she started to wonder what it was like, having a life like this. Did Cordelia prefer this thoughtless, numbing beat and crowds of faceless people to a quiet life with her?

"Hey, you're two-face's pet, aren't you?" The voice was slightly slurred, the tone condescending. It belonged to a girl. Misty turned around to find a tall blonde in a tight dress – Cordelia would never wear something like this, this girl might as well walk around in her underwear – looking down at her. She carried a half empty glass of some colorful liquid Misty assumed tasted just as awful as the one she had tried.

"Who're you?" Misty asked. The room was vaguely lit, enough that Misty could see the girl raise an eyebrow.

She scoffed. "You don't know? Bitch, I'm throwing the party. Oh well, you will soon enough, as soon as I get my movie deal. I'm Madison Montgomery. Better start remembering my name, _pet_." Madison stopped and looked at Misty, who fought against the urge to growl at her. So this was the girl who had tormented Cordelia for as long as Misty had known her? She wouldn't look so pretty with claw marks on her face.

"Is it true your maid got arrested? What did she do? Come on, you can tell me, I won't tell on you."

Misty said nothing, only stared at her while debating if hitting her would be worth it. Cordelia said she had a lot of power in high school as well.

The blonde laughed, a fake, shallow sound that Misty couldn't connect to an expression of joy at all. She shifted her weight and put a hand on her hip. "Not so chatty, are you? Cat got your tongue?"

"I don't like you."

Her eyes widened and then more laughter followed.

"Well I ain't loving you either, bitch. Why don't you fuck off, back to your little dog house?"

Misty didn't move. She feared that if she did, she wouldn't be going away but right at Madison's face.

"Hey, are you deaf?"

"Misty!" Misty flinched at Cordelia's voice. It had stopped her not a second too late. She could feel the tingle in her fist. Instead of raising it, she looked to the stairs, where Cordelia made her way up. Her steps had the characteristic uncertainty about them. The light in her eyes changed, when she saw Madison.

"Hi Madison", she said in a foreign tone Misty hadn't heard her use before. It sounded like she was giving up a fight already.

"Hey, getting wasted, are we? Will you control your pet? She's about to like bite me or something."

"Don't call her that! Aren't we getting too old for this?" The slur in her voice didn't do much for her authority.

Madison shrugged and walked away with a: "Whatever you say, two-face."

Cordelia didn't answer her, but gave Misty a warning look instead. Rightfully so, as Misty's whole body was itching to push Madison down the stairs. The two of them passed each other and Misty kept her eyes on Madison, willing herself to not run after her.

The urge vanished when Cordelia fell into her. She had little control over her body and the impact made the unprepared Misty take several steps back into the darkening of the hall. This section was empty, but on the other side, past the stairs, there was another of those kissing couples. The notion made Misty feel strange and realize her own grip at Cordelia's waist. It was just to steady her, but Misty couldn't help the very clear acknowledgement that she was holding Cordelia's slim body between her two hands. And Cordelia was almost leaning in, standing way closer than she used to. It made Misty's throat go dry.

"I'm sorry Misty, I didn't mean to get so drunk", she said. "I just hate the way they all look at me since that whole ordeal with Delphine and I can't escape it. I'm horrible. I'm just like my mother." Misty looked up at her hazed, unhappy eyes. Cordelia had grown over her head again, but it wasn't much. If she stood on her toes, they would be the same height.

"You're nothin' like your mother", Misty told her. Cordelia offered her a small smile.

"You don't think so? Fiona always says I take too much after my father. But I never knew him. Did you know your father, Misty?"

Cordelia's hands came up to Misty's arms and Misty didn't know if she did it to steady herself or if it was just because all the alcohol in her blood was blurring the boundaries she normally kept. Misty found it hard to focus on making sentences, because Cordelia's hands didn't keep still. They squeezed a bit or moved because Cordelia's body swayed with the flood of booze in her system.

"No I don't. You know that."

"I do, I'm sorry. I'm a little dizzy. Don't mind me, I won't remember anything in the morning anyway."

"None at all?" Misty thought if it meant she wouldn't remember this moment either.

Cordelia shook her head. "Probably not. I guess this is why my mother drinks."

Could she do it? If Cordelia didn't remember it, what was the harm? Maybe she wouldn't even mind. Misty found herself staring at Cordelia's lips and suddenly her heart was pounding. Heat gathered at her ears. How easy wouldn't it be to close the distance? She was right there, a smile on her face, a fog in her eyes. All it took was a fraction of a step, but if that was true, why was it still so hard?

She took too long. Cordelia's forehead creased and one of her hands left Misty's arm to brush her hair behind her ear.

"What's wrong?"

Misty lost her nerve. She shook her head and put on a smile.

"Nothin'. You wanna go home?"

Cordelia nodded. "That's probably a good idea. I just need to find Queenie and Laura and say goodbye."

Half an hour later, they were on their way home. It was a cold night, but Misty didn't feel one bit of it, because she had led Cordelia out of the house by the hand and she hadn't let go again. They hadn't held hands this long since they were children and Misty thought it might just make her burst.

They snuck into the house, careful not to wake Fiona and Misty followed Cordelia to her room. Cordelia didn't bother turning on the light or take anything but her coat off, before she threw herself on the bed. She made a notch with her head for Misty to come sit, so Misty closed the bedroom door and went around the bed to sit on the free spot. She threw her coat on the floor, because there was persistent fever burning just beneath her skin and she couldn't bear to have it on for one more second. Cordelia chuckled and looked up into the ceiling. Her hand crawled over the sheets and found Misty's. Their hands settled on Misty's leg, fingers entwined. Cordelia closed her eyes for a moment and drew a deep sigh.

Misty studied her as she lay there, marveled over her smooth, milky skin and the contour of her slim body. Her flawless face. She had cut her hair shorter for the past year, so it only went to her shoulder, softly grazing it like the most delicate of breezes. Now it pooled out behind her head, softer than silk sheets. Misty wanted to touch it so bad, but she didn't want to let go of Cordelia's hand and if she moved the other, lost her contact with the solidness of the bed, she might just fall apart.

Perhaps it was best if she left. She started to move, but the hand holding hers tightened and Cordelia opened her eyes.

"Don't leave yet", she pleaded and Misty sat back down.

"Okay."

"Should I not have brought you tonight?" Cordelia then asked. "Maybe I shouldn't, but I just didn't want you back here all alone again."

"I'm glad you did. But I'd rather stay here next time." She regretted it as soon as she said it, because Cordelia's face fell a little. She quickly added: "I just like the quiet better."

That undid a bit of it. Cordelia's body relaxed and her fingers started tracing patterns in Misty's palm. Misty's throat went dry again. The motions made her skin tingle all the way up her arm.

"I'm sorry about whatever Madison said to you. Don't mind her."

"I don't."

"You're not a pet to me. Never think that."

"I don't."

A silence came upon them. It was a different atmosphere and maybe it was because Misty was seldom around Cordelia on the rare occasions, when she was drunk, but she thought it was something else too. They didn't use to touch like this anymore, but now they were. Misty started gathering courage to ask the question and her heart picked up speed again. Her pulse vibrated under her skin.

"Delia, am I your sister?"

Their eyes met. Cordelia didn't betray much hesitation, before she said: "No."

That was the easy one. The next struggled to get out. She felt her pulse drumming in her ears. It was so hard to breathe right all of a sudden.

"What am I to you?"

The finger on her palm stopped, but their gazes remained locked. For a few seconds it looked like the haze in Cordelia's eyes lifted and it made Misty even more nervous. Her heart hammered inside her rib cage, the stirring in her body assembled in the center of her chest. Cordelia moved and her hand spread out flat on Misty's leg, as she used it for support to get up. Misty's muscles stirred, wanting to help her balance, but Cordelia managed and she sat up, bringing them face to face. Cordelia wavered a bit, but her eyes were securely fastened on Misty's and there was a curious gaze in them. Her face was so close it made Misty's heart leap into her throat. She had no words to urge on the answer she was waiting for.

"I'm not sure", Cordelia finally said.

Misty was well aware that the older girl's hand hadn't lost contact yet. Now the other one moved, slim fingers brushed a curly lock out of her face. Cordelia didn't smile, didn't say a thing, but she looked. Her fingers traced Misty's jawline. Misty had no clue where her own hands were; she was frozen in place with the silent hum of the stirring inside her. The only reason she didn't scramble to the floor like a building with its ground pillars blown away was Cordelia's delicate hold under her chin. Her thumb traced the texture of Misty's bottom lip and suddenly Misty felt an entirely new sensation of an insidious, low-burning heat from the bottom of her stomach. It felt alive, it felt like it urged her to lean in. All she could hear was her own frantic pulse in her ears and she had the sensation the room was suddenly fifty degrees warmer.

A hard knock on the door made Cordelia flinch and pull back. It took Misty several seconds to link the action to the sound of the door and by then Fiona had already opened it.

"You could at least turn off the goddamn lights!" Fiona stopped in the doorway and her eyes widened at the sight of Misty. Her gaze made Misty think of animals who eat their young. She uttered only one word: "Out."

Misty didn't hesitate to obey. She jumped off the bed as fast as her dazed body allowed, without looking at Cordelia, and walked out of the room. Fiona caught her before she could flee into her own room. A firm grip on her arm held her in place and Fiona hissed at her: "Don't think I don't know what you're doing, swamp rat. I want it to stop. You're _not_ good enough for her. Stop it now or you're out, you hear me?"

"Yes, Mrs. Goode", Misty whispered. When she let go, Misty ran to her room and shut the door. She collapsed on the floor right behind it. She curled up into a ball behind it and gave in to the tears that had rapidly started building in her eyes. She hated Fiona, she loved Cordelia too much and now that low-burning fire wouldn't go away and the ashes were torturing her.

On the other side of the door she could hear a fight building.

"I'm seventeen!"

"Yes, you're a foolish teenager! What were you thinking, bringing Misty to a party?"

"I was thinking she shouldn't be locked up all the time!"

"Don't get coy with me, child. What were you doing, drinking in the first place?"

"What's wrong with that? I'm just doing what you do?"

Misty heard the slap all the way through the door. She had her hands on the handle, ready to jump out, before she could take a second to think. She stopped there and listened to the sound of Fiona's angry steps retreating. She choked down a sob and tore her hand away from the door to go lie on the bed instead.

Cordelia had said she wouldn't remember anything in the morning. Misty wondered if perhaps that was for the best.


	12. Chapter 12

Nothing had ever made the colors of her tiny world seem so dull as waiting for Cordelia to wake up did. Misty woke up only a few hours later than usual, despite the lack of sleep, and Cordelia's door was still closed. Just looking at her door made Misty's heart pound. She remembered that feeling with such vivid clarity it still made her throat contract. She remembered the way Cordelia's finger brushed over her face, her bottom lip. She shivered. She didn't dare to leave her own room. The only thing worse than confronting Cordelia was confronting her mother.

A little over noon she finally heard the creek of the door opening across the hall. Misty had been waiting for this moment ever since she opened her eyes, but now she hesitated. Now she was afraid to find out if Cordelia remembered. She couldn't even decide which of the possibilities were the most mortifying.

The steps faded down the hall before Misty had so much as moved and their bathroom door closed. Misty willed her heart to stop beating so fast and she took a deep breath. She would have to face her sometime. It was only when the steps returned, that Misty realized with increasing dread the time was now.

Seconds later, Cordelia appeared in the doorway. All her makeup was off, her hair tied back in a careless ponytail and her eyes looked like she had been drained of a week of sleep. And all Misty could think about was that finger on her lip.

"'Morning", Cordelia said. It was a bad day, Misty could hear it in her voice. The day after Cordelia had been drinking often was. Somewhere in between her drunken smiles and her waking up all the joy seeped out of her body. It only made it that much harder to confront her about last night.

"'Mornin'", Misty answered. "How're you feelin'?" It was the only question that seemed safe for now.

Cordelia sighed and entered her room. She moved like every cell in her body was screaming at her and she went to lie down at the foot of Misty's bed.

"Like hell. Fiona will kill me. She'll laugh at me for not being able to handle a hangover and then kill me." She groaned. "I can barely remember last night. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to get so drunk. It was just all the talks and the looks, it just gets me sometimes."

The mention of Fiona suddenly made Misty remember the slap she had heard last night, from behind her door. In all her emotional chaos, she had forgotten it, but now it bubbled through her again.

"What's the matter?"

"She hit you."

Cordelia's expression grew dark for a moment, as the memory seemed to flash behind her eyes.

"That I remember."

"She shouldn't have done that."

Cordelia sighed again. "I shouldn't have behaved like that. I'm so sorry you had to hear that."

Misty just shook her head. "Don't feel bad, Delia, you didn't do anythin' wrong."

"Well technically I did. I'm not allowed to drink. Neither are you, though one sip hardly qualifies. I shouldn't have brought you. I just didn't want to leave you back here again." She said it just as she had last night, Misty noticed. Like she had forgotten all her words.

"Don't you remember anything from last night?"

She made a grimace. "I remember first half of the party. The second half is a little fuzzy. The rest is kind of glimpses. But I remember you got me home. Thanks. It's nice to know you're still there, when I'm drunk and annoying."

"You could never annoy me", Misty mumbled, crestfallen. She didn't remember anything. She would have said. Misty started to get mad at herself for getting her hopes up. She should have known.

A hand found hers, a thumb stroke her skin with soft caresses. It was all too familiar. Misty's heart speed out of rhythm again, her neck and ears started to get warm.

"Thanks anyway."

It was too much. It was just all too much.

Misty didn't say anything. In that moment she decided she couldn't do it and she spent the next three days trying to force her emotions back to normal. Back to when Cordelia's every move didn't make her feel like this. The only problem was that she couldn't remember, when that had been. She was beginning to doubt such a time had ever existed.

The times Misty had to herself were beginning to feel like sanctuary. They were times where she could set her mind to peace, confess to Mother Earth and get it all out before Cordelia returned home. With the little homeschooling she received, there were oceans of time to calm her nerves and oceans of time were needed.

Only today Fiona worked at home, as she sometimes did. She worked harder than Misty had ever seen, trying to control the media and keeping the scandal from getting out. She had managed to keep her job for over a year now, but the threat was constant. She was losing cases. Even Misty, with her negligible knowledge of the world around her, could see that.

Misty didn't like being alone with her. She could feel the glares at her back. She didn't mind that Fiona made her take on some of the duties the crazy maid used to do – as Fiona had refused to take in a new one – but she hated doing it, while Fiona secretly watched her from around the corner of her office. She had barely said a thing to Misty since that night, but the looks were more than enough. Misty had never relied on words, when understanding someone's feelings.

The doorbell rang.

"Get that", Fiona commanded. This was their way lately, but Misty forced back her usual defiance. She didn't want to start a fight, because she feared it would lead to Cordelia finding out. It was a wonder that Fiona hadn't said anything yet. Misty supposed she should be happy the scandal kept Fiona occupied.

She went to the door and opened.

And nothing could have prepared her for the sight, which met her.

It was as if she looked into a mirror. Only the reflection was thirty years older and much frailer in appearance. Misty's brain was abruptly wiped clean and for a while they just stood, staring at each other.

"Mama?" Misty didn't even think before she said it.

Tears rose in the woman's eyes. Her lower lip quivered and she reached out, hands shaking and hesitating to touch.

"My child… My dear Misty. They were right, you're really here." Misty thought she sounded just like her. They sounded as much alike as they looked. Misty could see where she got her hair from. The woman – despite her absolute lack of doubt that the woman was her real mother, she had no idea what her name was – took a effortful step forward and flung her arms around Misty. Frozen with shock Misty just stood there as the woman hugged her tight. Then she recognized something. It wasn't a smell as much as it was the entire aura eluding from the woman. It was a scent of something Misty had never consciously been able to recall, but now that it filled her every sense, she recognized it and she hugged her arms around her mother.

"I'm so sorry I let 'em take you, little girl. I'm real glad to see you. I'm sorry it took so long." She kept mumbling into Misty's hair. No one had ever embraced her like this. It felt like she fit right into the space of this woman's embrace, like it was meant for only her.

When she let go, Misty didn't know what to do with herself. She heard Fiona calling, but ignored her. The woman stared at her for a moment, a smile mixing with her tears. Then something seemed to dawn her, because her gaze became uncertain and she backed a step away.

"I'm sorry", she said again, but in a much more controlled voice this time. "I'm overwhelmin' you. But you looked like you remembered me and I just couldn't… Do you remember me?"

Misty nodded once. "Yeah. I remember you're my mama, but I don't understand? And I don't even know your name."

"Of course you wouldn't. My name's Margaret and yeah, I'm your mama. I came to-"

She stopped when steps sounded from the hall and Fiona approached.

"Christ child, what is the hold up, can't you hear- oh. And who are you?" Fiona stepped up beside Misty and took measurement of her new guest.

Margaret gave her a polite nod and a small smile. She looked older than Fiona, Misty thought as she watched her real mother great Fiona. She tried her best to memorize her every move, as if she could get to know her in these few minutes alone.

"How're you doin', my name is Margaret Day. I'm Misty's mama."

Fiona's eyes widened for a second, but she quickly gathered her usual cool composure. "Day, you say now. Well, you're _not,_ according to a bunch of papers in my desk drawer."

Margaret ignored this. "I came to town lookin' for Misty. I've been through all the towns closin' up to the forest, the small and the big, lookin' for you." – she looked at Misty now and started talking to her instead of Fiona – "I described you to everyone I met. I'm so lucky you still have that hair. It's what made some nice folks nearby recognize you. They said you live here now. And you do. I can't believe I found you. Can I… Come in?"

To Misty's immense surprise, Fiona didn't answer, but looked at Misty instead. It took a while for Misty to realize that Fiona was asking her. Baffled, Misty blurted out: "Yeah 'course."

Two minutes later, she and Misty sat on each their end of the couch. Fiona stood on the other side of the table, arms crossed over her chest and eyes carefully following the scene. She had offered Margaret nothing to drink, but Spalding came in with a tray of ice water by himself.

"I'm not even sure where to start", Margaret said, all the while staring at Misty with an intensity Misty only recognized from when a healing trance came upon her. "I'm still tryna comprehend that you're here, that you're alive. And you're so grown. You're the prettiest girl I've ever seen. I can't bear to think what you must think of me."

"Yes, why don't we dig into that?" Fiona said. "You see, my daughter dragged _your_ daughter home from the forest one day nine years ago and it was abundantly clear she had been living out there for a while. Why don't you start by explaining that?"

Misty was torn between wanting to snarl at Fiona for talking like that to her real mother, and craving the same truths as she. And she wouldn't deny the spark of anger in her, fueled by Fiona's words. She had wanted answers to these questions all her life and now here they were in the form of a person with her hair and her eyes and even her voice.

"Yeah mama, why did you leave me out there?"

Tears welled into eyes again. She apologized for herself and dried her eyes with the edge of her sleeve. "'Course you'd wanna know that. I hope you can believe me, when I say I didn't wanna see it happen. I begged them not to, but where we come from, it's a very strict, religious place. A tiny community. And you had – have? – certain… abilities…"

"You can spare us the mystery. She still has them."

Margaret's eyes widened, but Misty couldn't tell at first just what emotion made them do so. She didn't seem scared. "You do? How well do you control it? How much can you-"

"Get to the point, will you?"

"Yeah 'course. You see, Misty, you have always had these powers. I imagine you were born with them. I saw what you could do as early as when you were only two. I hid it from our community, 'cause they wouldn't understand. One day Norma's boy got bitten by a wild dog. He was just the same age as you, only four back then and the dog had torn up half his thigh. And you healed him. It was beautiful. But not everyone thought so, the town priest least of all. He saw the devil in you and he banished you from town. I begged and I begged, but nothin' I said could change it. If I hadn't agreed to your banishment they would have killed you. They sent you into the forest and forbade any of us to go look for you. That was the last I saw of you."

Misty sat quiet for a while. Tried to envision it. Nothing happened; the space where the memory should be remained black. Even so, she believed her mother's words. And even though she remembered nothing of the dog and the boy, it sounded like something she would do.

"But why didn't you look for me anyway?" Misty asked. She tried to imagine Cordelia going missing and someone forbidding her to seek her out. She wouldn't stay a second.

Margaret didn't cry this time. She only sat in silence, but somehow this made her seem even older.

"I should have. I was weak. I was afraid and bound by rules. I can't hope you'll ever forgive me… but maybe in time we could figure it out anyway. 'Cause I wanted to ask you, if you wanna come home again?"

The question hit her like the blow of a sledgehammer. She noticed she was gaping and shut her mouth again. The flood of emotions that came with it had so many colors she couldn't think for a while. The thought of a mother, someone who was just hers, was a dream she had had all her life. Every time she looked at Cordelia and Fiona together, she had it. They might not always be the best of friends, but they had a bond Misty would never experience. She always thought Cordelia was enough, but now at the prospect of getting what had been nothing but a concurring fever dream, she wasn't so sure. This bond would never make her feel like she was choking, the way Cordelia sometimes did. But she knew nothing of this woman, despite the scent of her being and what she had learned in the past half an hour. Getting up and leaving her entire life seemed almost impossible.

It was Fiona, who broke the silence.

"Misty has a home."

Misty looked up at Fiona in shock. Fiona didn't look back, but focused her eyes on Margaret. Misty had never heard her talk like this before, talk as if Misty belonged. She wondered what the reason could be for her sudden change of heart.

Margaret nodded. "I know. I understand you've taken her in and for that, I can never express my gratitude. But," she turned to Misty again, "if you wanna come home to the place you were born, I'm offerin'. I understand if you wanna stay in your life here, but just know that I can't come back here again. I ain't allowed to leave the community, you see. They gave me special permission, 'cause…" She trailed off again, in battle with herself. Once decided she looked up. "I wasn't sure if I should tell you this. I'm sick, Misty. Might be real bad and 'cause of that they let me go find you. Not 'cause you're a healer, but 'cause you're my daughter and the only thing I ever regret is losin' you. So there you have it."

Misty knew it was true. This was why she looked so old in an odd way. Misty didn't cry, despite the sudden odd pinch of sadness in her chest. Instead, she reached out and put a hand on her mother's heart. Margaret gasped in surprise, but kept still. This was where the sickness was, Misty knew. Her heart was slowly failing.

"I can feel it. But why can't you heal yourself? I can."

She smiled. A sad smile. "That's somethin' only you can do. You were born gifted. Only you."

She called it a gift. Misty remembered when Fiona found out. She had looked at her as if Misty had suddenly grown an additional head. She had looked at her with fear. But this woman practically glowed at the thought.

"Will they all hate me, if I go with you?"

"No. The old priest is gone and the rest'll see there ain't no reason to fear you. What do you think? We have our own school you can finish there. And it's a beautiful place, so quiet and peaceful. Nature on every side…"

"I love nature." Misty had never thought so intensely about something in her life. She looked up at Fiona. Seeking her opinion was another first.

Fiona only shrugged. The hostility disappeared from her face. "It's up to you, kid."

Misty thought about Cordelia. She couldn't say goodbye to her, even if she was given the chance. She would never be able to tear herself away. But she couldn't endure this suffocation any longer. She thought about Cordelia's thumb on her lip. The embers of heat that came with it. Fiona's ultimatum to throw her out, if she ever acted on her feelings. She didn't understand why Fiona suddenly wanted to keep her, but Fiona wasn't the heavy stone in her decision either way.

Then Misty looked to her mother, her own reflection, and thought about the life they could finally share. Misty could learn to forgive her, she believed. And she couldn't ignore this hurt in her mother's sick heart. She couldn't. It sang to her with the saddest tunes and she needed it to stop. There was a part of her, a part of this gift tethered to her soul, which forbade her to ignore it. She could heal her mother and maybe that would mend the hole she always carried in her chest, but barely noticed until today. She might lose close to everything she had today, but maybe the relief was worth it.

Her mother caught her eyes, sought for the answer with a hopeful expression, before she asked: "So are you comin' with me?"

O0O

When Cordelia walked home that day, it was with a head full of schoolwork. The shame of her drunken behavior, most of which she had forgotten, was starting to fade now. Shame always did. It sunk back to the distant corners of her mind and it might accumulate there, but at least it shied from her conscious mind. She needed her focus. She needed good grades. She would never be able to take over her mother's firm, which was the plan after all, if she didn't get good enough grades to find a decent university. And her mother needed her support more than ever, in the aftermath of Delphine's arrest. Lately it seemed too much to hope for, that she would even keep her job long enough for Cordelia to take it over.

Cordelia walked in and put her stuff away, while debating if she should tell Misty about these new worries. Her grades were fine, but she wasn't the best. Her mother would need her to be, yet Misty always found a way to make her feel like her best self no matter what a list of numbers said.

The house was awfully silent, she noticed. She figured perhaps Misty was outside, making sure the plants in the greenhouse were coping with the winter. She knew her mother was working at home today, but she heard no buzzing of a keyboard. She had gotten used to it being the three of them in this house ever since Delphine – and Cordelia made a point of not thinking about her and all the horrible things she had done too often – was arrested. The house felt huge now, too big even. Spalding didn't count as an inhabitant. He was a shadow more than anything else.

Cordelia only made it a few steps down the hallway, before Fiona appeared out of the living room. There was a look of worry in her eyes, which alarmed Cordelia at once.

"What's wrong?" She asked. Often her mother would scoff and wave it off, whatever is was. It was her way of saying Cordelia shouldn't meddle and today she would have preferred that. Instead, Fiona gestured for her to come closer.

"Come on in. I think you need to sit for this."

It felt like a little bird had awoken within her ribcage and started to flutter around with a panic that increased by the second. It was the waver in her mother's voice, which hit her the hardest.

"What is it?" She asked again. Fiona didn't answer before Cordelia had seated herself on the couch. Fiona sat in her usual armchair in front of her. She took a moment, in which she looked at her hands, as if searching for words and the little bird in Cordelia's chest started tapping at her insides with its sharp beak. Finally, Fiona looked up.

"Cordelia, Misty has moved out."

The strangest sensation of hot panic hit her, so sudden and so forceful it made her ears ring.

"Wh-what, what do you mean by that?" She stammered. She couldn't possibly have heard right. And it couldn't possibly mean what she feared it did.

Her mother's voice remained calm. "Her mom came by today, when you were at school. She has been looking for Misty for a while. She offered Misty to come home. They left together. I'm sorry, darling."

"But… No, she wouldn't do that, she… She'll come back soon, right?"

Cordelia wanted to scream at her mother to stop shaking her head, but the breaths kept sticking to her throat. Suddenly she felt faint and had to dig her fingers into the cushion to make sure the room around her was still there.

"I don't think she will. She comes from a strict little society; you can't just come and go from there as you please. Her mom was granted special permission. I don't know if she'll ever come back, but I think it's best, if you try to accept that she probably won't."

Cordelia waited for the ability to cry, but her whole body floated in a state of a shock so severe her system had lost all power. She only stared empty-eyed at her mother, hoping some force would relieve her of this cruel cosmic joke, this wicked feeling of abandonment. How could she leave? Just like that. A blink of an eye, a sudden death.

"Why didn't you stop her?"

"It wasn't my choice, Cordelia. It was Misty's."

"But you adopted her!"

"And I gave her the papers with. It's done, child. I'm sorry."

"No!" Finally, the tears welled up. Her hands trembled, when she lifted them to wipe the falling ones away. The whole room spun, her ears rang. She rushed up from the couch, not sure where to go, but she would search the forest a hundred times over, if that was what it took. Maybe if she got lost, Misty would find her again.

Fiona caught her before she could search anything.

"Let me go! She can't be gone!" Fiona only tightened her embrace and pulled Cordelia to her. Cordelia couldn't remember the last time they had hugged in any way, and something about that realization cut through her desperate denial.

"But she is, Cordelia. She left. She's not coming back."

Her body caved. The bird died in her chest. She cried against her mother's shoulder, still unable to fully grasp just what it meant, all of this. She only knew that she had never felt so alone. She pushed Fiona away.

"I need to call Myrtle", she said, her voice so broken it was barely words. Fiona didn't object, but let her go.

Cordelia had the sensation of moving through a fog, one that had materialized from her own dizzy pain and utter disbelief. She could barely push the right buttons on her phone.

" _Hello dear, how are you_?" The elation in Myrtle's voice somehow only hurt more. Cordelia drew a sharp, trembling breath. " _Darling, what's the matter? You sound upset_."

She took another moment to form the words. She was afraid to say them out loud, because once she admitted it, she could no longer fool herself into thinking in was only a cruel joke or a nightmare in broad daylight.

" _Cordelia, talk to me. What happened_?"

"Misty left."

She barely heard the answer. It drowned in her sobs. But the answer wasn't the most important, her own words was. And now they were said and they were true and she was alone.

* * *

 **A/N: That's the end of part one, you guys! But despair not, we're nowhere near done! Thanks to everyone who has read along so far and to you who have written me all those wonderful comments, it honestly means the world to me.**


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: First chapter of part 2 ready for you, I hope you like it. Feel like I should put out a special disclaimer for Fleetwood Mac lyrics, which I of course do not own either (although that'd be cool). Anyway, as always thanks for reading and I love to hear what you think of it.**

* * *

 **Part 2**

" **I've been afraid of changing, 'cause I build my life around you. But time makes you bolder, children get older and I'm getting older too."**

 **\- Landslide, Fleetwood Mac**

Nature has its own voice. It speaks with the easiest language for those who listen, it sings to the right ears. It doesn't need an audience, but welcomes all of those who tread carefully. This was what Misty liked most about the Louisiana swamp. The sense of belonging. Misty felt at home here and not only because she had spent a year of her childhood alone with the secrets of the woods and learned to understand the way of life in the wild, but because it was her own. She coexisted with nature like every other soul in here.

She had almost gotten herself killed the very first day back. Foolish of her to run straight for the darkest, wettest part of the forest, but she was in a hurry and 'the deeper the better' had been her reckless plan. She ran straight to a pack of gators and had to sit in a tree the whole night to keep from being ripped to pieces.

She had made peace with them since. Mutual respect and knowing ones territory was the key. And they seemed to understand that she was closer to nature than most of her kind. She healed a gator pup once, one that had been fighting with a bigger one and it often stayed by her shack now, somehow letting the other alligators know she meant to harm. The little one always made her smile. When it didn't tear down her garden it a fit that was.

Misty was watering her plants, trying to keep them alive under the dry heaviness of the warm summer day, when she heard ruffling through the woods at a distance. She had a good ear for these things and usually it was just a swamp rabbit or a fox, but she knew black bears sometimes entered the proximity.

The ruffling came closer and Misty stood still, listening. Something was definitely on the move close by and fast at that. Too big to be a rabbit, too light to be a bear. Misty abandoned her garden and walked towards the source of the noise with hesitant steps. If it was some thieving fox, she had to lead it away from her home.

The creature's movements had slowed down once she got closer. It was merely walking now, defeated in its fast pace. Misty sensed that she wasn't closing in on a threat; the sound of the movements were random, hesitant now. They weren't the treading of a predator. Misty's caution turned to curiosity. She stopped and peeked around a tree, ready to take measure of the intruder.

What she saw made her heart leap in her chest like a little bird, just learning to fly. The trespasser was still a dozen feet away and with her back turned, but Misty would recognize her anywhere. The time apart could not take away the imprint of her every move, her posture. Her blonde, velvet hair.

"Delia!" Misty called out without a second thought and abandoned her cover to run towards the other woman.

Cordelia turned around with shock and disbelief painted in her every, beautiful feature.

" _Misty_?" Her voice was thick and rang with fright along with the same shock her face portrayed. "Misty, how…"

Misty stopped right in front of her, took a second to take her in and to understand that it was really her after all that time – and it was. The years had made an imprint on the teenager Misty remembered, but her dual colored eyes spoke of recognition and they hadn't changed a bit. Cordelia opened her mouth to say something, but halted and then Misty threw her arms around her neck in a fierce embrace.

" _Oh_ ", Cordelia uttered. She sounded absolutely perplexed, but her arms found their way around Misty's body to return the hug.

"I can't believe it's you!" Misty hugged a little tighter and then let go. At an arm's length, they stopped and stared into each other's faces. New first impressions exchanged in their old non-verbal way. In those silent moments, it felt like their connection was reattaching strings, rebuilding itself in seconds. Then they laughed. Misty noticed redness around Cordelia's eyes, but she also heard the soft, genuine laughter and decided not to spoil the moment.

"I don't understand, how… I'm having the strangest déjà vu", Cordelia said, her eyes still locked with Misty's, laughter and bafflement twirling around in them.

"At least I can speak this time", Misty said, earning another soft snicker for an answer. Without thinking, she reached out to touch Cordelia's face. The fright that had kept her from doing so in her early teenage years was long gone now. Cordelia blinked a few times and then her hand came up to gather Misty's in her own. "Delia, you're so beautiful", Misty told her as the hands fell. "Still, I mean. Are you lost again?"

Cordelia blushed at the words and nodded slowly. "I was even running away again, although not from Fiona this time. Are you living out here again?"

Misty nodded and grinned at the odd replay of their first encounter.

"Yeah. But this time I have a house. You wanna come see?"

"I…" She trailed off, let go of Misty's hand and Misty tilted her head a little, waiting for words. She was on the verge of asking about the tears, when Cordelia continued: "Yes, of course, I would love to. I'm just so... shocked, I suppose. You're really here."

"Yeah, right here. C'mon." She held out her hand for Cordelia, who took it again after a moment's hesitation. As she did, Misty noticed red scratches up her exposed arms, probably from running through the wilderness. Misty looked up to meet Cordelia's gaze – "What? Oh that's nothing…" – and down again, as she laid her free hand over the cuts and concentrated. Energy surged through her and the damaged skin healed under her touch. It barely even made her dizzy. Her powers had grown over the years and small scrapes like this was nothing. She checked the rest of Cordelia's visible skin.

Cordelia stared at Misty's hands and when she finally talked, it was a whisper: "For a moment, I forgot you could do that. I suppose that completes the déjà vu."

Misty gave her a quiet smile and received a similar one in return. Cordelia slid her hand into Misty's again and let her lead them back to the little clearing, where Misty had built her shack from an old ramshackle thing someone had abandoned once. Misty thoroughly enjoyed the feeling of Cordelia's slender hand in hers again. It had been so long, but now finally reconnecting with the skin she knew like her own, it didn't feel like all a whole decade had passed by. She turned and smiled every second step and made sure Cordelia didn't misstep, as they made their way over the rough texture of the forest floor.

"How come-" Cordelia started, but as they entered the clearing she fell silent with another "Oh." She let go of Misty's hand and Misty let her take a look by herself. She stood back watching Cordelia instead. She had perhaps grown a little in height since their separation, but Misty was once again the tallest. Her hair had grown over her shoulders again, and carried the same soft shine that Misty remembered. Her posture seemed more mature, but Misty could still sense the insecure teenager lurking behind the surface of this grown woman's body. She sensed all the things that made her _her_ Delia. Cordelia absentmindedly tucked a strand of hair behind her ears, while looking at Misty's extensive garden, the same way she used to do when reading an interesting book and she walked with her arms wrapped around her body as if for protection. It made the little bird in Misty's heart flutter with excitement, joy and longing all at the same time.

Cordelia turned around. "This is impressive. Have you grown all of this?" Misty nodded. "How long have you been living here?"

Misty shrugged with a lopsided smile. "Aw, some years, kinda lost count. Lived in the city for a while, but it wasn't for me, so I moved out here."

"But what about your mom? You went with her."

Misty felt a little jab of guilt and the smiled faded. She knew this would come. Cordelia did her best to hide it, but there was a hint of accusation in her voice. Misty nodded and braced herself. She walked close, while searching for the words. There was no reason not to spit it all out at once.

"Yeah. I'm real sorry I left like that. It killed me, it did. But I always dreamed of my family comin' for me, you know, so when she was suddenly there, I couldn't turn my back on it. And I don't think I fully understood how permanent my decision would be back then. Sorry I never got to say goodbye."

Cordelia didn't say anything, only looked at her. A hardness had crept into her eyes. Misty continued: "Turns out I'm from a small religious society behind this forest and they banished me when I was four, 'cause of my ability. But my real mama never wanted that, she told me, only she couldn't ague with the old priest. None of them seemed to remember me, when I got back though and the old priest had died, so he was no problem. The new one never talked to me. They let me alone with my mama. 'Cause she was real sick, you see, that's one of the reasons I went with her. I didn't know how to ignore that. And they let me stay with her until… Yeah. But she's gone now so I was out in the cold again. They want nothin' to do with me and I ain't got no reason to stay there anymore, so… Here I am."

Cordelia's face abandoned all sign of reproach and she reached out to take Misty's hand in hers.

"I'm sorry, Misty. I had no idea she was sick. Fiona never told me that. You couldn't… Help her?"

Misty shook her head. As sad as the memory made her, the time when she had shed tears over the loss of her mother had long passed now.

"Couldn't do enough. I kept her alive for some time, but couldn't cure it."

"I'm sorry to hear that. I wish I had known. I think perhaps Fiona never gave me all the details from that day. So you found your family?"

Misty shrugged. "Found my mama. And found out my last name is Day."

"Misty Day?" Misty nodded and an infectious little smile broke out on Cordelia's face. "It suits you."

"Yeah, I guess."

"So you didn't meet your dad?"

Misty shook her head. "No one ever told me who he was. I didn't ask."

"I'm sorry", she said again. She looked towards the door. "Can I see the inside?"

Misty nodded and the grin returned. She went to open the door and held it open for Cordelia, as she stepped inside. Misty didn't have many things, mostly the necessary: A bed, a small kitchen, a large barrel to take a bath in and a pile of blankets meant for the cold winter nights. The more luxurious things were her small table with only one chair, her little radio and a poster of Stevie Nicks, someone she had come to know the existence of through various brief bartending jobs. Cordelia saw it and eyed her with a crooked smile.

"I listen to her a lot. She speaks to me I guess", Misty explained. Cordelia continued to look around the small shack. It was only one room and one turn of a heel was really enough, but Cordelia turned again and again like it was the most fascinating room she had ever entered.

"I can't believe you live out here. It's so… It feels so like you. Like everything about you. Everything I remember anyway." She looked shy all of a sudden.

"Haven't changed much", Misty admitted.

"Is it safe to live here? Aren't there alligators just down by the water? And all kinds of dangers?"

"Na, me and nature we got a deal. It's save as can be."

"You're so strange, Misty", Cordelia said with a slight shake of her head and a voice so warm Misty could feel it through her skin. Cordelia walked close again and stopped in front of her. She hesitated there, but Misty understood and pulled her into another hug. Nothing had ever felt as good as Cordelia's arms around her neck and her body pressed against Misty's own. She heard Cordelia's low voice near her ear: "I've missed you."

Misty smiled when letting go. "I've missed you too. Like you wouldn't believe. You want somethin'? I can make tea? Got my own brew just outside."

"Tea would be lovely. I'd like to taste your brew."

Misty spent a few minutes heating up water and making tea, while Cordelia looked around her garden in silence. By the time she was done, Cordelia had gone inside again and Misty gestured for her to take the chair, while she herself hopped onto her bed, holding the hot tea in a mug between her hands. Luckily, she had two of those.

They drank in a short period of silence, once again reading each other non-verbally in the way they did as children.

"I came back for you, you know", Misty said after a while. "The day I left my birth town. I came back to the house, but Fiona told me you'd moved to Boston. To go to college."

Cordelia looked shocked again and took a while before she answered: "I did. Go to college. As soon as high school ended. I wanted to go back to the city I came from, but to be honest, what I wanted most was to get away from Fiona. You can imagine why. I finished college and lived there for a couple of years after. I… got married there." At this she shot an extra look at Misty as if seeking her approval. Misty for once didn't know how to react. It was a strange sense of loss. She was glad to hear Cordelia had found love and comfort, when she couldn't provide it for her, but…

"Anyway, his name is Hank. We met in college. We made a pretty good life for ourselves there, I guess."

"But you don't live there now?"

She shook her head. "No, I live here. Again. Same house. Fiona never handed it over to the state. She lost her job not many years after you… after the scandal. I was in my second year of college by then. We thought we had it under control, but it got out somehow. We're guessing someone got hold of the police report or someone who lived in the neighborhood then. Anyway, she started up in a new business, but it's not doing well and she needed us to take the house. So we did. I love Boston, but I always knew I wasn't done with this place. I teach at the school here now. I have a second grade and a fourth. I'm teaching English and biology."

"You always were a good teacher."

"I think it's the only thing I was ever good at. But I love the kids…" She trailed off again. Misty had a feeling that every pause was from stopping herself from saying something she didn't want to say. Misty didn't pressure her. She knew her well enough to believe that Cordelia would tell her, when she was ready. She nurtured herself with the mere presence of her and pushed the thoughts of distance aside. They had only just met again. And, Misty thought to herself with a smile, it seemed they had gotten a second chance at getting to know each other all over again.

O0O

Cordelia sat in Misty's small home, feeling like she had crossed a border somewhere back there into a surreal flexible childhood memory. Or a daydream perhaps. The impact of emotions was so powerful it felt like waking to a cold shower. She felt oddly alert, now as every emotion spilled over her and pulled her from the grey for the first time in so long. Suddenly everything was sharp and it felt so good, but _God_ , it hurt too. In the first few minutes of their reunion, she couldn't decide if joy or hurt was the most predominant emotion, but she figured that in this dream-like state, she could choose whichever. In this daydream, she just wanted to be happy.

The mere sight of Misty was surreal. There she sat, every bit as charming and energetic as the teenager Cordelia had known, with almost no sign that nearly ten years had passed. She had grown, yes, in height mostly and she was – remarkably considering where she lived – less skinny. She looked like a young woman instead of a teenager, but she still looked so much like herself the notion threatened to bring tears to Cordelia's eyes. Sitting here, talking to her, it was like the essence of Cordelia's childhood rushed to her from the past, overshadowing all the years spent apart. And the agony of their separation. She was so overwhelmed, she could barely speak of it, but as it always was with Misty, she did not need to. Misty understood. It made Cordelia feel bad for all the awful things she had thought of her, when she thought she had just left. Her mother had never mentioned her return either and it made new pulses of unresolved anger welled up in her, but she pushed it away. She didn't want to ruin this sacred moment.

They had talked for hours already. Cordelia told her all about the kids, she taught, and what the house was like now. The house felt so big now, because even Spalding had disappeared. Somewhere between Fiona's departure and now, the butler had stopped creeping around the shadows of the house and vanished all together.

Misty, in return told her all about her newfound love for Stevie Nicks and Fleetwood Mac.

"A guy in a bar, where I once worked, told me 'bout 'em. They used to play the music in there all the time. They inspire me, 'cause they took all their problems and made it into art. I think Stevie is very in touch with nature like that, 'cause I feel that's how it is out here. Changes in nature creates art everywhere. Like that tree in my back yard. It was struck by lightnin' once and it made it shape the most beautiful ways. It died, but somethin' pretty came of it."

Cordelia couldn't help snickering at Misty's overshadowing love for nature. The forest was tethered to her soul in a unique way. And as Misty went on to talk about the creatures who shared the forest with her, Cordelia got an idea of the so called deal, Misty had made with the Louisiana swamp. Misty told her about the pack of alligators down by the riverside, how she learned to live alongside them, all the while grinning at Cordelia's horrified expression.

"Don't worry. They keep to themselves. The real problem's all those damn foxes, sneakin' 'round, stealin' my food."

And only Misty would make that priority, Cordelia thought. No one else would shrug at the threat of alligators, but worry at the prospect of hungry foxes. It suited her wildness, still so clearly present in the movements of her body and the words on her tongue. She talked and she walked like any other human – and Cordelia noticed that the Cajun quality of her accent had gotten stronger – but it was as clear as daylight that she would always be one of a kind. And Cordelia still adored that about her.

When the darkness of the night started seeping in through the windows, Cordelia reluctantly announced that she had to get back. She felt a jab of guilt leaving Hank at home with no word from her. She had been away for hours before, but that didn't ease the guilt. It was a stupid fight anyway, they always were.

"I'll walk you to the edge", Misty said and Cordelia sent her a grateful smile. All the years of age had not soothed her fright of the dark forest, which made it so ironic that she always fled in here, when fights at home became too much.

The light from the road glimmered in through the trees, when Misty said: "Don't think I haven't noticed that your eyes were red. I just assumed you'd tell me, if you wanna."

This was what she had always loved about Misty. Her intuition. It never wavered.

"I was just being silly, don't worry about it. I had a fight with Hank, but it was nothing serious."

"You can tell me anyway."

"I know." She squeezed Misty's warm hand. "Another time."

"So I'll see you again, right?"

They stopped and Cordelia turned to face her best friend – because she still was. The years of hurting couldn't change that. There was a spot in her heart, from where Misty never strayed and she had to only catch the grown wild child's eyes to know she felt the same.

"Nothing could keep me away. And you know where I live. My door is always open for you."

Misty pulled her in for another tight hug.

"And I won't leave you again. I'll make a path for you, so you can find me", she whispered in Cordelia's ear.

When they let go and said goodbye, Misty stayed by the edge of the forest as long as they were still within line of sight of each other. Cordelia could see her waving every time she looked back over her shoulder.

It was past midnight, when she walked up the isle to the front door of her mother's house. The light was still on in the living room and the light from the windows lit up the grass just outside. She had barely gone through the door, before Hank was there with worry in his eyes.

"Cordelia? Are you okay? Baby, I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have yelled like that."

"It's okay, Hank. It's forgotten now."

She walked to him to let him see that she meant it. All the harsh, frustrated words had been so thoroughly pushed back in her mind, that she could barely recall the sound of them, let alone the feeling. He placed a hand at her arm, gently rubbing it.

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure. I just needed air. I'm sorry I was gone so long." They went into the living room and the bright light stung in her eyes for a moment. She shuddered at the change in climate and Hank was over her at once, hugging one of his shirts around her shoulders. She was aware how different her home was from Misty's little cozy shack. It felt even bigger all of a sudden.

"I met Misty", she blurted out as soon as she sat down. Hank tensed up beside her and she could feel his gaze zoning in on her. He clearly hadn't forgotten the only conversation they had ever had about Cordelia's long lost childhood friend.

"Misty, who lived with you?" His voice was cautious and his eyes locked on her face.

"Yes. She's back it seems. She found me, when I ran into the swamp. We talked for a few hours, which is why I'm only home now."

"So are you guys okay? Because I remember you said she really hu-"

She interrupted him, before he could remind her of too much: "It's nothing to dig up now. Right now, I'm just glad she's here. And I learned that she returned to find me shortly after I left for college. Fiona never told me that." Hank cursed under his breath. "I know. It's a Fiona class act. But it doesn't matter now, because she's here in New Orleans. Misty. I just feel so… I don't know, I guess I'm still a little stunned, but I'm really happy I found her again. She was my best friend."

"So you're really okay?" She looked up at him and nodded with a reassuring smile. "Well this is great! Let's invite her over!"

Cordelia hesitated and Hank's face fell again.

"What's wrong?"

"Oh nothing, it's... I don't know, Hank, she not always that taken with people."

"Are you saying I would scare her?" Cordelia couldn't help a little laughter. She couldn't think of any person who had truly ever scared Misty. Not even Fiona. Fear wasn't the problem.

"No, I doubt it. She's just not…" Cordelia was starting to realize how hard it was to describe her to other people. She never had needed to with her mother and Hank had never gotten this many details before. Cordelia had been too mad and too wounded to talk about her. Now that she wanted to, she couldn't find the words. She knew exactly how Misty was back then and, it seemed, still was, but she had no idea how to express that to her husband. She ended up saying: "She's not that social. Likes to keep to herself. Besides, I think I'd rather not introduce her just yet. It's only because…"

Hank stopped her. "Babe, it's okay. I get it. She's _your_ friend. You want her to yourself for a while and that's fine. I was just curious."

Cordelia smiled gratefully. "Thank you."

He returned the smile, leaned in and kissed her softly. He seemed to understand that she was too lost in recent events to commit and settled for a gentle peck on the cheek, before saying: "You want to come to bed?"

"Sure. Just a moment." She now realized how tired she was, as if all the bewilderment of the past hours had held back every redundant feeling, only to release it in this moment. She felt utterly confused, and she felt like every emotion, she ever experienced throughout her childhood, had been dug up from the ground for a fresh taste.

Hank gave her the space she needed to absorb as much as she could of it and when she pulled up the covers on her side of the bed, he only kissed her shoulder and whispered goodnight, before leaving her to her thoughts.


	14. Chapter 14

Cordelia screamed.

It seemed the worst possible thing to do as it only further agitated the half-grown alligator standing a few feet from her. Cordelia backed away in panic, desperately aware that the ancient killing machine could snap her in half and swallow her without breaking a sweat. She should never have taken a step outside Misty's shack.

"Nick!" Misty's voice pierced Cordelia's frantic mind. She appeared beside Cordelia a second after, stepping in front of her and thereby putting herself first in line to become alligator dinner. "Don't you touch her! Away with you!"

Cordelia had never heard this particular tone in Misty's voice before, hard and full of authority. She was staring down the monster and Cordelia couldn't see her face, but she sensed that power, which always lingered in Misty's eyes, now eluding from her entire body. The alligator slowly backed away and left the clearing. Cordelia didn't dare breathe, before it was completely out of sight.

Just then Misty turned around and said, cheerfully so: "Sorry about that, Delia. I meant to introduce you to Nick. He's a little grumpy today 'cause the big'uns are after him again."

"Nick?"

"Yeah, I named him after Stevie Nicks. Nicks, get it?"

"Why would you name that monster?" Misty's expression, completely devoid of acknowledgement of the fact that an alligator had just trespassed, only served to make Cordelia more hysterical. "Is that a swamp thing I don't know about?"

"Hush now, he's alright once you get to know him. He's the nice one. Well to me he is, but I've known him since he was a pup."

Cordelia stared incredulously at Misty, who continued to water her plants as if nothing had happened.

"You have a pet alligator?" It was meant as a joke, but Misty threw her a grin of confirmation, which tossed Cordelia into a whole new state of bewilderment. "Why? How?"

Misty laughed. "Oh Delia, don't look so scared. I won't let him hurt you. I took him in 'cause the other ones tried to kill him. Healed him up real nice and kept him close so he wasn't so alone."

Cordelia wanted to object; Misty's explanation sounded like the purest form of madness to her. Only she realized Misty cared about this creature, she could hear it in her voice, and she could only think of repeating what she had said the day they had met: "You're a strange woman, Misty."

Misty just laughed.

Cordelia had decided to put her unresolved anger and hurt aside for a while and just enjoy having Misty back in her life. It had been so easy to find their way back to the closeness they had developed so quickly as children. In so many ways, it truly was as if no time had passed at all. In other ways, Cordelia noticed a difference. The pet alligator being a less pleasant one of these. The fact that Misty would rather live out here than at the mansion was another. "I got my own home now", she said. "'Sides, you live with that husband of yours, right?"

She did, she couldn't deny that. She still hadn't invited Misty home, formally, since that first day. She liked the thought of it just being the two of them out here. She would have thought that the time apart had made her more independent, made the need to be close to Misty less pressing, but on the contrary, she couldn't seem to get enough of her.

When Misty was done tending to her plants, she spread out a blanket in the middle of the grass and they lay down beside each other. There wasn't many things, which could steal Cordelia's focus away from Misty these days, but she couldn't help turning her head once in a while to look down the path, where Nick the alligator had waddled off.

"So should I expect this pet of yours to just drop by whenever?"

"Don't call him that. I don't like that word, pet. I think of him as a friend." Cordelia remembered how the kids used to call her that and sent her an apologetic smile.

"Okay, well should I expect your scaly friend to show up at random?"

Misty rolled over and moved up on her elbows, so to face Cordelia. Her gaze was playful, when she asked: "Are you really afraid he's gonna eat you?"

Cordelia stared up into her face. Did those eyes just become more like the sky every time she looked into them?

"Would I be a terrible city snob, if I said yes?"

Misty chuckled. "No. But silly. He won't harm you none, when I'm here."

"You promise?"

Misty offered her a raised eyebrow. Cordelia accepted the answer. She reached up and tugged a strand of Misty's curls, which was tickling her face, behind her ear.

"You're the most beautiful, you know that, right? You look so much like yourself and then again… something's different."

"Pretty for a swamp rat, huh?" Her voice was light-hearted, when she repeated Fiona's mean words, but Cordelia still felt the need to comment.

"Don't say that! God, those were cruel words. She was always so awful to you."

Misty shrugged it off. "Wasn't so bad. I got used to it and I kinda had to keep my mouth shut, right? She gave me food and all."

Cordelia wanted to argue her case, but Misty suddenly turned serious. Cordelia could feel the question coming, before it left her lips.

"How's aunt Myrtle?"

It was as if a shadow crept over the sun. Suddenly it was a little colder, the ground was a little rougher and Misty's smile so far gone, it hurt all over again. And just like she had known the question before Misty spoke it, the younger woman seemed to know the answer already, but seeing her getting the news for the first time was like baring the old hole in Cordelia's heart. Here was a wound Misty's warm hands couldn't heal.

"Myrtle's dead."

Misty nodded slowly, confirming that she had seen it coming. She didn't cry, but her eyes watered up for just a moment. Cordelia could count the number of times she had seen Misty cry on one hand, but even so, her emotions reflected easily in those powerful eyes.

"I'm sorry."

Cordelia got up. She wanted to curl into a ball again, but stayed open on the blanket with her hands uselessly placed in her lap. Misty got up too and they sat in silence for a while. Myrtle had always been good to Misty, treated her like a real child and Cordelia wanted to offer Misty a moment to remember her.

"When did it happen?" Misty asked after a while.

"About six years ago. She had been sick for a while. She was already at the hospital, the night she… I was in Boston, at school. It was my third year and I was so busy. I didn't make enough time to go see her, and then one morning I got a call from Fiona saying she…" A sob ribbed through her throat, choking the rest of her sentence. She had cried over this many times, cried out the sorrow and the guilt, had even gone to that dark place beyond crying, but some of the grief always lingered and reliving it with Misty was just too much. She wanted to curl up and disappear into the hole her aunt had left in her, but she couldn't move.

Suddenly Misty's arms were there, pulling her in. Misty let her rest against the warmth of her body, as Cordelia cried her guilt and loss out once more. She hadn't been prepared for this. This was Misty's time to mourn and she was stealing it.

"It's gonna be okay. I'm here now", Misty whispered into her hair, over and over, as she rocked her slowly back and forth.

"I'm sorry, I'm being embarrassing. It's just that I only now realized I had to tell you to fully accept it."

Misty shushed her.

"Don't you apologize, hear me? It's okay. It's gonna be okay."

Cordelia grasped for Misty's hand and clung to it once she found it. She settled into the safety of Misty's embrace and waited for the warmth of the summer evening to return.

O0O

Hank sat by the phone, tapping the desk with his fingers. Was a call too much to ask for? He got a promotion in his father's own firm and the man couldn't even be bothered to call and congratulate? It wasn't as if he had been the one to even deliver the news in the first place.

Hank knew their relationship was built on loving each other from afar, and he appreciated everything his father did for him – he would never even have met Cordelia, if it wasn't for him and his business schemes – but a visit once in a while couldn't possibly hurt him. Hank had always thought this was why he and Cordelia fit so well; they had a common skeleton with the label 'parent' on.

He poured himself a bitter celebration whisky and stared at the phone with a disapproving look. Counted the minutes until Cordelia tore herself away from schoolwork and came home to him.

The front door opened and Hank hastily packed away his whisky, before Cordelia entered the room. She had told him she was working late, because the kids had just handed in some papers and she needed to swing by Misty, before she got home. She was there almost every day now, even if just for a few hours. Hank would be lying, if he said he wasn't curious as to what this mysterious, legendary childhood friend even looked like. Cordelia had only told him that she had the wildest mess of curls, she had ever seen, and an endearing Cajun accent. That might be enough for women to get a clear picture of somebody, but Hank was still completely in the dark.

Cordelia gave him a smile as soon as she appeared in the doorway of his office.

"Congratulations", she said. She walked to him and leaned against the desk.

"Thanks babe. You want to celebrate with me?"

"Sure, what did you have in mind? Did your father call yet?"

"Nope. Bastard." Hank got up from his chair and snuck his hands around his wife's petite figure, before pulling her in for a kiss. She pressed against him and ran a hand through his hair, made him loosen up. His father might be indifferent, but at least he had this gorgeous woman who, unlike everybody else, seemed to be down with making him feel like the hero for one night.

"It appears you've been starting without me", she husked. She smiled at him, letting him know he wasn't in trouble and leaned in again. She sat back on the desk and pulled him down to her. There was something uncharacteristically needful about her movements. It puzzled him but also turned him on instantly. He let a hand travel down the contour of her body, finally experiencing some well-earned excitement.

Cordelia let out a small hiss as he reached her thigh. The usual trio of anger, frustration and anxiety washed over him. He broke the kiss and looked at her, but she avoided his gaze.

"Again? I thought it was getting better?"

"I had a bad day yesterday", she whispered. It took a lot, it seemed, but she finally looked at him. "I had to break the news about Myrtle to Misty and it just… I'm sorry. I don't want to ruin your night. Just ignore it."

"I can't just _ignore_ it, Cordelia. It obviously hurts." She looked miserable all of a sudden. It was the kind of look that always made him want to go back in time and swallow everything he had just said, just so this particular face never saw the light of day. He wanted so badly for tonight to not be about Cordelia's problems, not after that huge fight they had about a week ago, sending Cordelia off to the woods.

Cordelia shook her head, blinked the miserable expression away and said: "No, just give me a glass of whatever you're hiding in that drawer and it will stop hurting soon. I want to celebrate you, no matter how bad I felt yesterday."

He eyed her, debating internally how much worse it could potentially get with alcohol, but ended up pouring them both one. They sat down on the couch in the living room and Hank told her all about his new responsibilities. A quarter to midnight his father found the decency to call. Hank made it quick, because Cordelia seemed to be in a place far away from pain. When he hung up and kissed her, she did nothing to stop his hand from travelling. He always made sure not to look, because he knew it bothered her, but he could feel the rough skin just the same. Her tiny hands started pulling at his shirt and he stopped caring.

O0O

Misty ran her fingers through Cordelia's soft hair, while absentmindedly humming along to the radio. Cordelia lay with her eyes closed. She had had a rather trying day, Misty knew. She had gone to the doctor's to get fertility testing, something she had been anxious to do in a while. She was still waiting for answer and was told it could take a couple of weeks. Misty didn't understand all the science talk, but she had a very high level of understanding, when it came to Cordelia's emotions and she talked as if she had already received the verdict.

"Myrtle was infertile. And it can be inherited, so I'm just worried."

"You want kids?"

She had nodded and asked: "Don't you?"

"Never thought about it", Misty replied with a shrug. And that was the end of it. Cordelia didn't talk much about her husband either or her life with him. Misty didn't mind. If anything she was perhaps grateful. She found it hard, picturing Cordelia in the arms of some man. She didn't believe the ring on Cordelia's finger could ever measure up to the invisible bond she and Misty shared.

Misty was well aware of her old feelings resurfacing. She didn't worry too much though. She had shed the slough of insecurity, which she had carried around in all her teenage years, and now she lived everyday with the same breezy calm as always. Because she knew Cordelia felt it too. Only she, it seemed, still carried that insecurity with her wherever she went. Misty thought she might be calmer here with her, she always was as a child, but the signs were still crystal clear to Misty's trained eye.

When the song ended, Cordelia opened her eyes and looked at Misty for a moment in silence, before saying: "I should get back."

Misty merely nodded, not really done studying Cordelia's fascinating eyes. There were years of marveling to make up for. Cordelia always said it was a rare thing, heterochromia, and while Misty hadn't encountered that many people, a loner as she was, she had never met anyone with eyes like these.

"You're the only one who's never called my eyes weird, did you know?" Cordelia said, as if reading her mind. "Even Hank said it, one of the first times we met. 'Weird, but attractive' I believe he said."

"Attractive yeah", Misty said with a lopsided smile.

Cordelia chuckled nervously. "I always just thought it made my whole face look odd."

"I like your face."

Misty enjoyed the blush that spread in Cordelia's cheeks the moment before she got up. She remembered saying something similar to Cordelia as a child and she thought the other woman remembered it too, because there was a flash of recognition in her eyes.

"Do you want to come visit the house someday?"

"Yeah. Someday", Misty answered and Cordelia seemed to understand her meaning. She was in no hurry to come visit Cordelia's husband. Misty wondered if Cordelia realized that the house itself didn't have that many happy memories. Fiona's reign was never pleasant. No matter what the adoption paper said, Misty never felt like her child.

She followed Cordelia back to the edge of the forest.

"I think I've learned to find my way back in the dark now. So you won't have to lead me back and forth much longer."

"I like to. Wouldn't want you to get lost a third time. But you could always stay the night."

Cordelia threw her a shy smile. "Yes. Someday."

They hugged goodbye and Misty got a chance to smell Cordelia's hair. One of the many things she loved about Cordelia was the smell of her hair and skin. She would tell her that someday.

Walking back, she hummed quietly along to the song of Rhiannon that played in her head. She wondered what her departed, deeply religious mother would think if she knew the depths of Misty's feelings for Cordelia. They probably wouldn't settle for banishing her. Her mother had explained how the original plan was to burn her for witchcraft back when she was a child. She had even seen the place where the fire would have been. If they knew this of her, Misty doubted they would hesitate.

She scoffed aloud. Who were they to say who she was and how she felt? With their cold eyes and their fires, they seemed closer to the devil than she. They were poisonous people and she had never regretted leaving them.

Misty walked past her shack and down towards the riverside. She knew better than to go all the way in the dark – the other gators might think again and eat her if provoked – but she didn't need to go that far. She found Nick hiding in the bushes halfway down, still withdrawn from the rest of the pack. They weren't as inviting since he started associating with Misty.

"We outsiders gotta stick together, right Nick?"

The half-grown gator lay still as she sat down by the tree a couple of feet away. He was fully capable of getting his own food, but being shunned from the pack, he missed the company. Misty could understand that and so she sat by him for a couple of hours, humming tunes and thinking about Cordelia. She loved her name too. Misty thought it sounded like the name of a rare, exquisite flower.

O0O

Whenever the phone rang, these days, Fiona made a habit of running an internal debate on whether or not to answer it. It was a particularly small selection of people, she felt like talking to. The most important calls, doctors and her own lawyer were at the bottom of her wish list and those were the ones, who called her the most.

Today it was her daughter.

They only spoke once a month, sometimes a little more, as Fiona had her keep an update on the house. Just for good measure. A part of it was to make sure that Cordelia herself was still standing, but she would never tell her that. Cordelia would stop calling.

Today, she answered.

"Cordelia", she said.

" _Fiona_." Fiona couldn't remember exactly when Cordelia had stopped calling her _mom_ , but she didn't quite like that she had. There was a silence in the other end.

"Well? You called me?" Fiona said.

" _I was just going to offer you the usual update. Not that there's any point. The house is still standing, Spalding is still missing and Hank still lives here_."

"I can honestly say I'm only pleased to hear one of these things." She always hoped to hear Cordelia tell her that Spalding had returned to the house, he was bound to by contract. That would mean the shadow Fiona felt lurking in the corners of the streets here is Boston wasn't him.

" _Hank got a promotion. How is your business doing_?"

"Don't play coy with me, child. You can tell Hank I'm sorry to hear that."

She heard her daughter sigh at the other end. This was going well.

"Tell me about you. You're still teaching that fourth grade?"

" _They're fifth graders now. I have a new class. I…_ " She trailed off. It sounded like she was cutting herself off, but Fiona noticed something in her voice. A special tone she remembered from a long time ago.

"What are you not telling me?"

" _There's a lot of things I'm not telling you_."

"No there isn't. Did something happen?"

There was another silence. Then finally: " _I found Misty_."

Fiona found herself momentarily speechless. She could vividly recall her daughter's face the day she found out Misty had left. The only time Cordelia had looked that heartbroken, before and since, was at her aunt's funeral. There was only one person Cordelia had ever loved more than Fiona's sister.

All Fiona thought to ask was: "Where?"

" _Back in the swamp. Actually, she found me again_." There was a smile in her voice now. A strange knot, Fiona had hardly noticed, started to loosen in her chest. There was another reason for this, apart from the invisible smile. Misty might be her chance. Her cure.

"Do you see her often? Does she still have her healing powers?"

" _I see her every day. And yes, she still has them. Why do you ask_?"

Fiona ignored the question. "I think it's time to pay New Orleans a visit. You can tell the fox, I'll be staying at your house for a while. I fly out next week."

Fiona hung up and started looking for flights.


	15. Chapter 15

Cordelia could hardly comprehend it had already been two weeks since Misty found her in the forest – again. Then again, when you have spent your whole life with someone, time seems to work differently in their presence. She felt it that way. There were never enough hours for her to stay out here with Misty, when she also had to prepare for her classes and be there for her husband. Hank felt the pressure of the new responsibilities now. Their law firm was finally rising, something she would applaud, if it wasn't for the fact that their rise was the cause of her mother's fall. Fiona's new business didn't have the sturdiness of the former and she suffered from it. While Cordelia didn't mind her mother being thrown off her throne, she definitely minded the viciousness it brought along.

She couldn't quite decide whether it was due to Hank's promotion or Misty's reappearance, that Fiona had suddenly decided to come back to New Orleans. Either way, Cordelia hoped it remained empty threats. The mere thought of having to live with her mother again for an undefined period of time was exhausting.

She told Misty this. Misty didn't understand much of the world in the higher educations, but she empathized well on the issue of Fiona.

"She gave you the house, right? She can't just come back and boss you 'round."

"You know my mother, Misty. She does whatever she feels like."

"You think Spaldin' will come back too?"

Cordelia hadn't even thought of that. Hank always said that the reason he disappeared when Fiona did, was that he probably had a crush on her. "I'm sure he's stalking her somewhere up in Boston", he used to joke. Misty seemed to share his suspicions.

"I don't know. I hope he stays away. I never liked him."

"I know you didn't."

Cordelia nodded. Misty smiled, as she always did. Cordelia tried to return it, but it had been a heavy couple of days. Too many thoughts swirling around her head, not to forget the nearly unendurable wait for the doctor's test results. She and Hank had been trying for years, on and off, and she halfway expected to be the problem. She usually was.

When Misty reached past her for a mug to fill with water, her hand rested on Cordelia's lower back. Misty had made a habit out of these little touches ever since they reunited and it felt different in a curious way. Cordelia would be lying, if she said she didn't like it. Quite the opposite actually, but it also made her horribly nervous. When she moved next, she turned the wrong way and bumped into the edge of the kitchen desk. It hit a sore spot and she hissed at the sudden sharp pain in her thigh, before she could stop herself.

She knew it was bad even before meeting Misty's eyes. Misty had stopped dead in her track and shot Cordelia piercing look. Then her eyes flickered down to her thigh and up.

"Are you hurt?"

" _No_ \- no it's nothing", Cordelia hastily stammered, but too late. Misty pulled out the chair behind her and made Cordelia sit down. She herself kneeled down in front of Cordelia and the trance-like state that came over Misty, whenever she stumbled upon injury, eluded from her almost like a visible aura. Misty wasted no time asking for permission – this was one of the times where the manners of civilization seemed to have failed her – but started pulling up Cordelia's skirt at the side. Cordelia always wore these long skirts to make sure no one saw, and she did everything short of pushing Misty away to stop her from seeing too. When Misty lifted the skirt over her thighs, Cordelia closed her eyes and prayed herself far away.

She knew exactly what Misty would see: Skin ruined by hundreds of little cuts in a palette stretching from purple to red to white and bulging from her skin, completing the look of the wretched landscape that was her legs.

"Cordelia… Your skin…" Misty's voice quivered and it hurt Cordelia more than every time she had dragged a blade across her legs.

"Please don't look at it, Misty. It's hideous, I know." But Misty didn't listen. She had only regard for Cordelia's damaged skin, as she examined all the old cuts along with the few fresh ones. The closeness didn't seem to bother her one bit, as she carefully pulled Cordelia's skirt further up to look at them all. Misty studied her with uncanny intensity and a breath stuck in Cordelia's throat, when she brushed two fingers over the texture of old scars. Cordelia wanted to make her stop, but at the same time, she was afraid to move. She was afraid to get the same look that she received from Hank the first time.

When Misty finally looked up, her eyes glimmered with restrained tears. There was none of the fright, Cordelia had feared to find, only devastation. "Did you do this?" She knew the answer, Cordelia was sure, but she nodded anyway. " _Why_?"

Cordelia fought her own battle to keep the tears away and with a voice thin and fragile as old paper she explained: "It started after you left. It got worse after Myrtle died. It… without you and without her, it was just all too much. This was the only thing I could control. And sometimes I fall into these black holes and this is the only way to feel something. But I'm not saying it's your fault, please don't think that." The last thing she needed was to taint Misty with her darkness or make her believe she had ever done a thing wrong. And when a little voice in her head started whispering that she _had_ , Cordelia ignored it.

She had thought Misty would ask more, but she didn't. She looked down at Cordelia's exposed thigh and placed her hand on the skin. The trance returned and Cordelia tried to get a hold of herself. She wasn't sure why this wound her up so much. It wasn't like they weren't close in every way. It wasn't even like she hadn't been this exposed to Misty before, almost showing underwear, but never before had it caused her heart to beat this fast. Maybe it was the time apart, maybe it was the scars. Maybe it was that they were no longer children. Cordelia didn't really know.

She started feeling that familiar soothing warmth, so she looked down, reluctantly, at her legs. She saw how the necrotic skin sprung to life again under Misty's touch, leaving her thigh looking far less scarred than before. Cordelia didn't know what to say and when Misty looked up at her, so she just eyed her other leg. Misty moved to the other side and pulled up her skirt again, causing goosebumps to erupt all over Cordelia's body. Misty didn't say anything to it, but continued to work with that look of absolute focus on her face.

"It doesn't happen so often anymore", Cordelia said. She had to say something to break this newly birthed tension. It was suffocating her.

"These are new", Misty just said and Cordelia's heart sunk in her chest. She watched as Misty's healing hands smoothed out most of the scars there too. Some remained, too deep or too dead to be revived, but it wasn't the sight of the new smoothness of her own skin, which made Cordelia so speechless. She wondered in her quiet mind, how her best friend, who was basically kneeling between her legs now, had managed to make such a mortifying experience feel so intimate.

The supernatural warmth subsided, leaving only the feel of Misty's own warm hands, as she returned to earth.

"Can't get it all, but I got most of it. Does it hurt now?"

Cordelia shook her head. The sharp pain from the fresh ones was long gone. For a moment, even that dull, deep-rooted pain, which always followed when Cordelia looked at her legs, had subsided. When Misty moved away, Cordelia stood up at once, but she quickly realized she didn't know where to go. Misty stood up too, reaching above her height and Cordelia looked down to avoid her gaze.

"I'm sorry", she whispered.

Misty cupped her face with her hands and forced Cordelia to meet her gaze.

"Are you apologizin' for hurtin' yourself?"

She burst with a helpless chuckle. "I suppose I am."

She found herself pierced by Misty's sky blue eyes. The fright remained absent; all she found was a little sadness. As if Misty felt the pain with her.

"Never apologize to me for this. It's not your fault."

Cordelia felt weak, but luckily, Misty's strong embrace was there to catch her.

O0O

The office was a mess. Hank stared at the chaos and groaned in frustration. One week and he already felt swamped. He had worked half the nights overtime already. Justice never sleeps, as his colleagues told him, when he jokingly complained about the amount of work. At least he knew Cordelia wasn't just sitting back home and waiting for him. Honestly, he felt a little relieved she had gotten her childhood friend back. It was an almost miraculous coincidence, but it was a much needed miracle nonetheless. He had been nervous at first, because he had only ever known Misty's name to associate privation, but it sounded like they okay now. Maybe it could keep Cordelia from falling under again. She was finally getting better.

Hank shot a mean look at the mountains of paperwork and the boxes he still hadn't unpacked and settled for putting up his nametag. A little golden plate with the name Hank Foxx on it. He liked that, his name carved in cold. It made him feel special and God knew, he didn't get a lot of those moments in life. It was something else he and Cordelia always found a way to connect over, the feeling of living in the shadow of a parent.

It took all but five minutes to put up the sign. He spent another five minutes polishing it and received crude jokes on vanity by colleagues passing by, but he didn't mind. His own office was his own office. Moving on up. They needed a win. Cordelia had told him her dragon mother had made plans to come back to town, once she could find a hole in her schedule. He and Fiona never got along, perhaps because she had quickly realized he was the son of the competition – he vaguely remembered meeting her once as a teenager – or maybe because he was so different from her. He had heard her say that he reminded her of her ex-husband, and it was very clear to him this was no compliment.

Another heavy stone was the waiting for the tests Cordelia had insisted on having done. Hank was in no hurry, really, but it meant something to her. He saw it in her face whenever she talked about her kids at school and it made him get on board with anything that involved fertility. And he definitely didn't mind the baby-making process.

Hank had always thought himself a lucky dog for landing the prettiest girl on the face of the earth, but it hadn't taken him long to realize that the landing was thanks to her beneath the floorboards self-esteem. As he got to know her, boosting her self-esteem became one of his top priorities. Getting Cordelia to let him in had not been an easy task, because something was always holding her back, some heartache she refused to name. Hank sometimes made himself remember that he had gotten through anyway. He had to, because there was always a little mean voice in his head saying that she wouldn't have settled for him, if she had had the confidence to explore her own league.

A knock on the door. He had barely closed it, in an attempt to do the paperwork, when he was interrupted in his nonproductive trail of thoughts.

"Come on in."

The door opened and in came his father. Hank almost dropped his papers.

" _Dad_? What are you doing here?"

His dad took time to look around before answering. He stood tall in the doorway, suited up as always and his scant remaining hair neatly laid back. He had a constant look of superiority lingering in his aging features, as he scanned the room and Hank became increasingly aware of how unprofessional and messy it all looked. A hint of displeasure ghosted across Harrison's face, before his eyes finally fell on Hank.

"I had a meeting with the director of the department and thought I'd stop by to congratulate you on your promotion in person. You didn't make much time to talk last week."

"Er, well I…"

"You were busy taking care of your wife, I take it?"

Well yeah, but not the way you think, Hank thought and fought not to smirk. He wouldn't dare say it out loud and only nodded instead. His father never could see past the nervous wreck Cordelia had presented as in the week leading up to their wedding, the first time she ever met his father.

"How is dear Cordelia?"

"Oh she's good. Yeah, much better." Hank's traitor thoughts skipped to the other night, where he had realized the cutting was still happening. He really thought she'd stopped.

It was as if his father's dark, sharp eyes saw right through him. He often had the feeling that his father could read his mind, whenever he was thinking of something secret and he was not particularly surprised, when his father decided to dig.

"Is she now? That's good. Because we wouldn't want her getting worse. She's still on antidepressants, is she not?"

Hank tried to strangle the sigh of exasperation. "Yes, dad, she is."

He gave a nod and started walking a bit around the office. It was a short stroll – it wasn't the world's biggest office. Hank drew a relieved breath, assuming his father had grilled him enough for one night. He tried to clean his stacks of paper, hoping somehow his father wouldn't notice the sense of anarchy in the room.

"You take your sense of order from your mother, I see."

"I only just moved in here. They didn't have the office ready the first day and then there was the weekend so… But, I'm getting all the work done, don't worry, I'm just, er, a little behind on the archiving."

He received a silencing nod. Hank stood back in uncomfortable silence, hoping his father would leave soon. They did better, when they had a lunch together or scheduled plans like that, but there was something in the working atmosphere that made his father more cold and businesslike than usual.

He picked up the picture Hank had of Cordelia on his desk and Hank could almost see his father mentally loading the gun for another round.

"I never understood why you went so far as to actually marry her. She's charming, don't get me wrong, but so... You follow, I trust. She was depressed in college too, was she not?"

Hank's blood was starting to boil and he had to take a few seconds in order to keep his tone light and conversational. "It started before then, yes. But what does that have to do with why I married her?"

If Hank was being honest – and he rarely was when he told his friends and family the story – in the moment of the proposal, _he_ had been the nervous wreck. Cordelia's wedding nerves had nothing on him.

"Oh I'm just trying to understand", his father said in a friendly voice, that only served to infuriate Hank further. "Why would an extrovert guy such as yourself pick someone who's so unhappy and so shy? What's the point in bringing yourself down?"

"Like you didn't push me in her direction", Hank growled.

Harrison coughed out a dry laughter. "I never said put a ring on her finger, I only asked you to get close enough to her that you could get some information about my competition. And you did. Don't think I don't appreciate you giving me the details about the ordeal with their maid. It surely worked wonders, raising doubts about Fiona's right to preach justice with her history of lack in that department. Sadly, it seems you have shied away from your duty since then. Did you regret it?" Hank didn't answer and his father continued on, going about his usual victory speech: "In the end it was I alone who took down Fiona and her firm. I'm quite proud of that achievement."

Hank's hands were trembling with retrained rage. His throat screamed for a drink.

"What's you point, dad? You got what you wanted, why can't I get what I want?"

The same mocking, coughing laughter filled the room once more. "Of course you can have what you want, son. God knows you don't set high standards for yourself. I just don't understand why you didn't pick a more cheerful Mrs. Foxx."

"Because I _love_ her. Okay, dad? I love her and I don't care that she has problems or that her mother is your competition!"

His sharp eyes narrowed. "I don't like your tone, son." They stared each other down and Hank stubbornly refused to word the apology lying ready on his tongue. "It's your choice of course. And to be clear, Fiona Goode _was_ my competition."

"I really have to get back to work now, dad."

He nodded. "Well of course. These papers won't sort themselves out, will they? Congratulations again Hank. It's nice to see you trying."

He gave Hank a pat on the shoulder and left the office. Hank stared savagely at the door several minutes after his father's steps had disappeared from the hallway.

O0O

Cordelia felt strangely relieved, knowing Misty knew about her problems now. It wasn't a big nasty secret she had to carry around under her skin anymore. Neither of them had mentioned it since, but knowing Misty knew this of her, she felt they didn't have to. Misty always understood her in a way that went beyond words.

Misty acted nothing like Hank had, when he found out. For a while he had been almost afraid to touch her, but Misty continued with her little gentle touches, as if nothing had happened, and thereby continuing her undeclared quest to make Cordelia absolutely flustered. Cordelia knew she saw it. Misty was careful though, when moving Cordelia away, whenever she needed to reach past her. It wasn't a very big home and just being two people limited the space significantly. For this reason they spent most their time outside.

Misty was for a moment busy tending her extensive garden and Cordelia wandered around the clusters of berries, herbs and vegetables, all of it tangled in with each other, but living in perfect harmony. It reflected Misty's spirit well, she thought. Cordelia had always found nature immensely fascinating, plants most of all. Their quiet coexistence with each other, their resilience. Every year struggling against the wild life and the weather and every year growing. She took a kind of comfort in that. The greenhouse at home flourished under the work she did in Misty's long absence and they paid her back with their quiet comfort.

"It's amazing how you fit so many things in here", she said, when she reached around to where Misty kneeled. "Where did you get all these?"

"Oh here and there. Collectin' seeds from the forest and such. Some of it I bought in the city and planted out here. You just gotta be careful, 'cause not all of them can live side by side."

"I know. I'm actually teaching my fourth grade about ecosystems at the moment."

Misty looked up from the bundle of flowers she had been tending. "So they do learn somethin' useful in that school, huh?" A playful smirk followed.

"Why of course", Cordelia chided with a snicker. "I recognize not all of it may seem so important to you, but…"

"I'm only teasin' you, Delia. I know y'all need that stuff. I just don't." When she got up, she had a little daisy in her hand, which she tugged behind Cordelia's ear. Cordelia's skin tingled where Misty touched it. "Some call these weeds, but I think they're pretty just the same." Then she moved on to the next flowerbed, while continuing to talk: "I think yours are the good ones though, English and biology. It's thanks to you I can read. And count."

Cordelia smiled. "I suppose it is. But I bet you could teach me much more about biology than I you."

"Probably. Not the kind from books though. I would if you want."

Cordelia suddenly had a thought. "It would be amazing to bring the kids out here. My fourth graders, I mean. They have trouble sitting still as it is, this could make a great field trip. If you don't mind of course."

Misty looked up and after a moment's hesitation she smiled. "Yeah, I guess it could. As long as they respect nature."

"Yes of course. They do. And I would need approval from the school board and signed permission from all the parents too, naturally. And you would have to promise me to keep your friends from the river away."

"Of course. But it's only Nick who comes up here. I'll make sure he stays away."

Cordelia started picturing it. A day in the sun with Misty and all the kids, just getting a feel of nature without bending over books and little Petri dishes. They would love it. She would need an assistant, but she knew of someone who wouldn't mind tagging along. Zoe, a newly graduate, who had assisted her on class field trips before. She was a smart girl and great with kids. Cordelia thought she and Misty would get along well too.

"They'd have to bring their own food too, 'cause I ain't got enough to- watch where you're goin', Delia."

Too late. Cordelia, lost in thought, had walked straight into something, which hung above her head and whatever it was, it now poured down on her.

"What _is_ that?!"

Misty quickly came to her aid, a wide grin of amusement printed on her face. Cordelia reached up to find little seeds all over her hair. The daisy soared to the forest floor.

"Hold still now. It's for the birds. So they don't pick in the ground", Misty explained as she stepped close to rid Cordelia of all the seeds. Some had already woven themselves into the depths of her hair. She let her hands fall to make room for Misty's instead.

"I'm sorry I ruined your net. Guess the birds can just eat it off of me now?"

Misty laughed. "You wouldn't want that, trust me."

Misty brushed a few off Cordelia's shoulder and started digging into her hair from the sides to get the rest. The touch of her fingers made Cordelia feel much warmer than the weather could take credit for. The short distance between them made her heart beat a little faster.

"Why, have birds eaten off of _your_ head?"

"Let's just say this net was placed right above my door before."

Cordelia laughed at the image and Misty chimed in, while her hands searched and tugged.

It happened as fluently as breathing. The sudden feel of a breath, Misty's eyes half closed. She only sensed it a second before their lips locked together as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

Kissing Misty was the strangest sensation. There was something about knowing her so well and yet discovering this entirely new facet that blew Cordelia's mind to bits. The only thought she could gather from the blast was that she had wanted this with every fraction of her being. Now she felt it full force. It felt like a searing warmth that spread throughout her entire body from the core and all the way to her fingertips, waking her sedated body up from a sleep, it hadn't realized it was in. Before she knew it, she had her arms wrapped around Misty's waist, pulling her closer. Misty's hands had abandoned the seeds in her hair and shaped around Cordelia's face and neck instead, fingers brushing against skin in the softest manner. There was no hesitation in her, only gentle demanding.

For a blissful few seconds she was so lost, so deeply lost in it, that she forgot why she shouldn't be. When reason finally pushed through, a wave of so many different, opposing emotions washed over Cordelia that she couldn't sort them out. She broke the kiss and stared into Misty's hooded eyes, realizing with dread how breathless she already felt. Shame hit her and she looked down, untangling her arms from Misty's body to hug around herself. Misty's hands slowly slid off her, the motion betraying reluctance.

"Misty, I can't. It's not right."

"Why not?"

Cordelia sighed. It was the first time in her life that she felt just a hint of regret at the little ring on her finger.

"Because I'm married."

"Oh. That." Misty's voice rang with a note Cordelia had never heard before. Fragility perhaps. She didn't like the sound one bit. Suddenly all she felt like doing was to crawl into a hole and never again see the light of day.

"I should get home. I-I'll see you tomorrow."

She turned to leave, but Misty caught her by the wrist and held her back.

"You'll come back, right? Still?"

Cordelia thought again of the black hole she planned to disappear into, but she also couldn't stand this new voice Misty spoke in. She nodded. Misty smiled and Cordelia already calmed a bit, feeling a little less certain that she had just unleashed hell on earth.

"Good. You want me to follow you to the edge?"

"No thanks. Not today." Cordelia forced out a smile. She could still feel her body quivering in the aftermath of the sudden burst of emotion. She needed all the time alone she could get to force herself back to normal. Misty nodded in understanding and let her go.


	16. Chapter 16

She came back the next day as promised. Cordelia found Misty's utter and complete composure astounding. She seemed calm as ever, which soothed some of the nerves, Cordelia had been unwillingly working up over the night. She had gone straight for bed without talking to Hank, who was up working late anyway and laid awake with too many thought to bear without breaking into tears.

Misty's behavior was an extension of the feeling Cordelia had had kissing her: That their actions was the most natural thing in the world. If she was troubled by it, she hid it well.

Cordelia, however, didn't feel quite so untouched. And she couldn't help being hyperaware of every touch now. Misty, tactile as she always was, didn't quite keep her hands to herself, but the amount of touches, that Cordelia found to be not quite innocent, had lessened. She would sometimes see Misty change her mind in the middle of a motion and pull her hand back, and there was something about this that made their time together feel less natural, restrained somehow. The lightness of the atmosphere felt forced. It was only there like a hint of a taste in the air, because Misty was excellent at covering up any rejected feelings she might have and her joyous mood concealed the awkwardness a long way. Still, little imprints remained.

"Did you ask 'bout that field trip?" Misty asked a couple of days later. She sounded more eager now at the thought of having a bunch of kids invade her privacy, than she had before the _incident_. This was how Cordelia in her own mind referred to the happenings in moments, where she found it too hard to wrap her head around the fact that she had kissed her best friend and more importantly, that she couldn't stop thinking about it.

"I did", Cordelia said with a nod. "Well, I mentioned the idea to the board and talked to a few parents, but it will take a while before they come to a conclusion. And the opinions of the parents were very divided. Some thought it was a brilliant and one of the mothers reminded me that alligators do in fact reside not too far from here – I couldn't quite argue with that, but I also promised that measures would be taken and the area carefully checked before I would let her child run free. And I said that I'd rather be eaten by one myself than expose her child to danger."

"They're not that bad, if you don't disturb 'em."

"Well _they_ don't know that. And I doubt you could convince a single one. But that's the status."

Cordelia had realized that talking chased away her hyperawareness to an extent, so she intended to elaborate on every possible subject, just to keep the conversation going. The silences that got under her skin. Silences they used to enjoy together while lying on the bed or a blanket outside, just looking at the sky or each other – she remembered they would sometimes lie there entwining their fingers and Cordelia was honestly surprised this hyperawareness hadn't surfaced earlier. The silences were hard because in the vacuum of wordlessness, the drives from deep within her mind would overtake her conscious thoughts and betray her will to keep composed. She would blush, thinking about that kiss, _really_ thinking about it; going over the details of the way Misty had tasted and the contrast of her soft lips to her rough, nature-molded hands. She would blush and Misty would see. Misty didn't say a word to it, but knowing she saw it was enough.

"I hope some'll be allowed. I'd love to see you 'round kids. I can already picture it." She said this in a soft voice that did strange things to Cordelia's heart rate and she took it as a cue to leave.

"I'll let you know as soon as I know."

"You'll let me know 'bout the other thing too, right?"

Cordelia had blissfully forgotten that her appointment was tomorrow. She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to find the strength to accept that the moment of truth were closing in. Then she answered, with a smile: "Of course I will."

When Cordelia walked home alone from the edge to her house, her thoughts started circling around her late high school years, a time with similar struggles to this. She spent many nights out at that time, because home was too depressing a place. She didn't drink much, because watching her mother stumble around the house had put her off alcohol, but she was drawn to the drunken, dulling haze of carelessness that habited the bars in town. She wasn't picky with bars, but she didn't like to frequent either, so to not get a specific rumor. She had enough of those stuck to her name already.

One night she had dared a glass of wine at a bar she hadn't visited before and she hadn't paid much attention to the crowd, before a certain someone interrupted her solitude.

A young girl about her age appeared beside her with a drink in hand and leaned into her.

"Hello beautiful. Please don't tell me you're straight." It could have been the cheesiest or skeeviest thing, she had ever heard, but the look in the girl's eyes made it endearing somehow. There was a flattering cockiness to her appearance, which made it okay.

"I-I'm not sure", Cordelia had stammered, because just then a transient image of wild blonde curls intruded her mind, before she blinked it away. This girl, on the other hand, had short black hair and a dashing smile. Her name was Wendy and she ended up going home with Cordelia that night. Cordelia admired her bravery, being out like that in a world like this. She never fully came to terms with what they were; she didn't have the time, as Fiona found a way to put an end to it, as soon as she found out.

"It's not the girl I mind, it's your lack of focus. Think of the potential that runs in your blood. I plan to see you follow my steps. You must strive for greatness and this girl is not it, you hear me?"

Fiona had her way, because Wendy ended it a couple of months later, leaving Cordelia confused as ever about everything.

She was now perhaps less confused but in despair more so. She knew the name of her emotions, but she was obligated not to give in to them. And she could admit, at least to herself, that she was also afraid to take them on. What frightened her most was how alive she had felt in that moment, because now she was afraid her body would go back to sleep.

Hank seemed to sense her internal struggle upon first look. He was tactful enough to wait until she had a chance to sit down before saying: "Something's bothering you."

A wave of fear – what if he knew? – flooded her gut, but she forced herself to be rational. There was no reason for him to suspect a thing. There was no reason for him to even think along the lines. She had presented Misty as her childhood friend, which was nothing but the truth. She had never spoken of these latent thoughts that had ultimately caused her to kiss her. Or kiss back. She wasn't even sure who started it. It just happened.

"Honey?"

Cordelia realized she hadn't spoken yet and shook her head slightly, as if to wipe the betraying thoughts away. "It's only the test results tomorrow. I'm just so nervous."

Hank nodded. He didn't question this and honestly she _was_ nervous. None of what she had said was lies. Besides, was it even cheating? It was a small touch, as natural as so many others and it lasted for only seconds. Did it really count?

She realized Hank had said something and had to ask him to repeat.

"It's okay, babe, just try to calm down. I said that it doesn't matter to me what you hear tomorrow."

"Well it matters to me!"

"I know, I know. I'm not saying I don't care, I'm just saying I'll love you no matter what state your uterus is in. That's all I'm saying."

His words made her smile and she placed a hand on his cheek. "Thank you."

He turned his head and kissed her palm. "Maybe you should get some sleep? If it is bad news, it's easier to take if you're not already drained from sleep deprivation."

Cordelia nodded and didn't argue. She hadn't realized he had noticed her difficulty with falling asleep lately. Of course he must be somewhat attuned to it by now. It wasn't the first time a matter kept her up at night. She slept alone often too, when it was bad. Hank liked to give her space. Or maybe he was afraid to touch her. She had wondered this often. Whenever she fell into one of those black holes, Hank shied away from her, just as he did her scars. It was as if he was afraid to be near her, as if her poisoned mind was somehow contagious. She never voiced this, but the frustration at this distance was one of the many things that spawned their fights.

Hank came in late that night, hours after Cordelia had gone to bed. She was still awake, but pretended not to be. She lay on her side, facing away from him and only the movements of the mattress and his sleepy grunts let her know, he was settling down beside her.

She went alone to the doctor. She wanted it that way, because she couldn't bear the look on anyone's face, when she heard it. Yet she was in some absurd way less nervous right before she went in. In truth, she was already defeated. Too many signs were there to read for her to truly believe the test results would be in her favor.

When she was called into the office, the doctor already sat behind his desk, ready for her. In that moment she felt a hostility towards him. He could sit there in his chair, which felt more like a throne in this moment, holding her future in his hands and still feel completely detached from the emotions twirling inside her. He wasn't affected by her misery and he could let it go as soon as she was out of his door again, the same way he could with every other woman, who took their place in the chair on this side of his desk.

He stood up upon her entry and stretched out a hand for her.

"Mrs. Foxx, welcome."

"Just call me Cordelia, please."

"Cordelia", he nodded.

They sat and now she could feel her heart pounding. It felt too violent for her chest; surely, she must choke on the blood that shot into her throat any minute now.

The doctor gathered the papers and cast another glance at them before looking up at her. His eyes said everything, but his mouth ruthlessly kept on talking anyway.

"I'm afraid it's bad news, Cordelia." She closed her eyes for a moment as the final verdict sunk in. She wished she could make everything disappear as easily as the light in this room. He kept on explaining the extent of the matter. She only heard words and fractions like "Abnormal environment in the cervix", "treatment difficulty" and "Antidepressants".

"… So you see treatment does have certain obstacles given your situation, but there may be a few options we can try."

"Will it matter?" Cordelia asked in a voice so loaded with defeat her doctor shot her a worried look. "My aunt was infertile too and she never succeeded with any treatment."

"According to what you've told me on prior consultations, your aunt tried different treatments from what I'm suggesting. It's your choice of course, but I ask of you that you take these papers with you. Look them over and if you decide to give the treatment a try, give me a call and we'll figure something out." He leaned in over the table and added, in a softer voice. "I can only imagine how difficult this must be to hear, but just know that I haven't given up on you yet. So you don't have to either. Here." He handed her a tissue and only now did Cordelia realize the tears running down her cheeks.

She didn't have the heart to tell him that she had given up a long time ago.

O0O

Misty had barely gotten out of her bath, when there was a knock on her door. She knew it had to be Cordelia, as no one else knew she lived here. She had told her countless of times that she didn't have to knock, but Cordelia insisted and today Misty was glad she did. Finding her naked would probably not ease the tension between them.

She threw on a dress and went for the door. There was a weakness to the knock, Misty noticed, and she prepared herself for the worst before she opened the door. Outside stood Cordelia, wearing a mask of the deepest misery Misty had yet witnessed. Cordelia's eyes were red and her milky skin flushed from crying. Her hair fell into her face and stuck to her cheeks a few places. She looked into Misty's eyes with so much sadness it made her insides twist in pain.

She didn't need any explanation. She only took Cordelia's hand and led her inside without a word. She guided Cordelia to the bed, where she made her sit and took a seat beside her. With a careful touch, she freed Cordelia's hair from her sticky cheeks and brushed it behind her ears. Only then did Cordelia seem to truly acknowledge Misty's presence and her eyes filled with tears again. She put her head down on Misty's shoulder and curled up to her as Misty drew her arms around her. Her body trembled in Misty's embrace.

"I'm defective, Misty." She spoke with a shaking voice. It still rang with a hint of shock. "I knew he would say it, but it wasn't until I actually heard it, I…"

"Hush now, darlin', you're not defective", Misty soothed, speaking into her hair. Cordelia sniffled once.

"I couldn't tell Hank. I was going to call him, but I-I couldn't make myself do it. I had to first…"

"I know."

They sat in silence for a while. Their breathing synchronized as Cordelia's slowed to normal and Misty rubbed the bare skin of her arms with a gentle rhythm. Her own breathing struggled with Cordelia's pain, which still seeped in through her skin, and she tried to keep it steady. It was music of muted misery and Misty kept quiet, until Cordelia was ready to break the silence.

After a while she sat up and dried her eyes. She didn't look at Misty, but stared ahead.

"I can't seem to get anything right. I never could. This is just another failure added to the list. I feel so _useless_."

"Hey, don't say that."

"It's true." She looked down now. "Fiona was always right about me. I may know how to school small kids, but my abilities certainly ends there. I never reached her standards, I never even tried, and I… I can't even _conceive_ , the _one_ thing a woman can count as her biological right. I'm…" She finally looked up at Misty and her gaze was weirdly empty, in a way Misty had never seen before. "I'm not the same girl I was when you left. I don't have a purpose, I have nothing. I take medicine just to get through the day. I should have told you this earlier, but I was declared clinically depressed years ago."

" _Enough_ Delia." The hurt became too much and Misty rushed up from the bed, unable to take this sitting down any longer. "You're not useless or anythin' your mama tells you. I can't stand hearin' you say these things, it _hurts_. It's not who you are and I know you don't see that, but it's true! 'Cause _I_ see it!"

Cordelia stared at her with a shocked expression at the sudden outburst. Misty stepped closer and added, in a much softer voice: "You may be older now, but you're still the same – yes, you _are_. Just 'cause your feelin's have a name, don't make 'em different." She wanted to say more, but looking at the frozen figure in front of her, she thought maybe it would be too much for her. Instead she took her face in her hands, stroke her cheeks with her thumps and planted a soft kiss on her forehead.

"I don't know if I can truly function without you, Misty", Cordelia whispered.

"You don't gotta find out. I ain't goin' nowhere."

The smallest of smiles tugged at Cordelia's lips. It barely reached her eyes. "Thank you… I sometimes wonder if perhaps you could even fix me."

It took a moment for Misty to realize what she meant, but when she did, dejection crept over her.

"I can only fix what's biological."

"It is biological", Cordelia replied. "I have a lack of serotonin in my brain synapses."

"I don't know what that is… I can try?"

Cordelia nodded and Misty placed her hands around Cordelia's head. Normally she knew by instinct how to do it, but this time she was in doubt, which told her that it would never work. But she tried anyway for Cordelia's sake. She willed the energy to surge through her to rid Delia of all her demons, but nothing came. After a while, she let her hands drop. It felt like that one time she had tried to heal one of Delphine's prisoners and the damage in the man's head wouldn't let her touch it.

"I don't think it works like that", she admitted.

Cordelia sighed. "It was what I expected. I don't blame you. I may just be beyond reach."

" _Stop_ talkin' like that!"

Cordelia's gaze flew up again, surprised.

"I mean it, Delia. It's no good tearin' yourself down like that. I won't have it."

She chuckled, the sound incredulous and devoid of humor. "You're so different from Hank. He's always ready to run and hide, when I say these things."

"Maybe runnin' and hidin' ain't the right thing to do", Misty said. She didn't know what else do to with all these comparisons. Instead she turned the subject back to the core. "Ain't there nothin' they can do?"

Cordelia sighed. "The doctor did have some suggestions. I'm just not that hopeful they will work. He gave me a few treatment options to consider, do you want to see?"

Misty shook her head. "I don't understand all that smart talk anyway." She sat down beside Cordelia again. "Tell me what _you_ want."

"Oh I don't know, Misty. I want to be fixed, but I'm afraid to get my hopes up."

"Sometimes you gotta hope." That made Cordelia look at her again and with a shimmer of wonder in her eyes.

"You make everything sound so simple sometimes. I'll think about it." She let out a frustrated noise and laid back on the bed. It was only a one-person bed and her feet were still dangling from the edge. Misty withdrew her own feet and crawled up beside her. Cordelia's hand lay lonely across her stomach and Misty took it, entwining their fingers. This might be one of the things that made Cordelia all flustered and sometimes caused her to jump up and leave, but not today. Today she just squeezed Misty's hand and stared into space. Sometimes a hard look flickered across her face, but mostly her stare had that emptiness to it, that Misty quickly learned to despise. To her, Cordelia was still the same, only this empty stare was new. Misty had noticed the seeds of this behavior all those years back, but never voiced it. She didn't feel it was something Cordelia wanted to discuss, but now that had changed too.

"What's on your mind?" Misty asked when another of those hard looks ghosted across Cordelia's beautiful, sad face.

"I was thinking about Auntie Myrtle. It was cancer that got her. It's perhaps a more biological disease. I can't help but think that if you had been there, you could have healed her."

"I tried", Misty admitted. There was no point not to. She had kept Myrtle's secret until now, and if Myrtle wanted her to hold her tongue, she could crawl back from the dead to tell her.

Cordelia turned her head, shock in her eyes. "You did? You never told me that."

"She made me promise not to. It was years ago, before you even went to high school. I wanted to help her, but she said I shouldn't risk exposure over her. She wouldn't let me touch her." Misty still remembered that day with perfect clarity. Already half trapped in her concentrated trance, she had reached up for Myrtle's chest, knowing she could ease some of the pain with a simple touch, but Myrtle had stopped her hand, ripped her back to reality. "She thought it would raise too many questions, that could hurt me. 'Don't waste your life on me, child', she said. I'm so sorry, Delia." The memory moved her more than she had expected and her voice almost broke in the end. Cordelia seemed to hear it, because her free hand came to join their entwined fingers on her stomach and she squeezed again.

"It's not your fault. Myrtle wouldn't risk causing you trouble. Classic Myrtle." Cordelia's voice too was dangerously close to breaking. They fell silent. Misty lay her head down beside Cordelia and curled up to her the way she always did when sharing her bed as a child. They didn't need to speak to understand each other's need for comfort. It wasn't long before Cordelia became the little spoon and the pulse Misty could feel pumping just beneath that milky skin started to feel like her own second heartbeat.

O0O

Delphine breathed in the air of freedom. Stepped onto the street, out of captivity. Such a marvelous feeling, being free.

She didn't have many resources, but the eldest of her daughters had sought to that she had something, when she got out. Delphine thought of her Borquita, the youngest one of them. Was she still caught of the web of that horrible woman? Delphine didn't know, but she would soon find out.

First things first though. She took the first bus she could find that got her to the outskirts of New Orleans. The mansion looked exactly like it had ten years ago. Standing tall, letting all its surroundings know of Fiona Goode's supremacy.

She knocked on the door, expecting to have good old Spalding open. Instead, a stranger appeared on the front porch. He didn't look like something Fiona Goode would approve of. He wasn't dressed as though he was a servant, but she felt it wrong to assume him man of the house. There was a boyish insecurity hiding in his adult face.

"Yes? Can I help you?"

Well, he obviously wasn't a burglar, so it couldn't hurt to ask him. She found her most pleasing voice, one she had had plenty of time to polish during her time in prison, and asked:

"I was looking for Madame Goode. Does she still live here?"

"Madame, er... Are you talking about Fiona Goode? Because she lives in Boston now. I live here with my wife. And you are? I feel like I've seen you before, but I can't place you." He ran a hand through his hair and Delphine gave him a moment to make sure he didn't. When he came up empty, she said:

"Oh I'm old friend of the family. I've been out of town, you could say, for many years and I haven't heard from good old Fiona in ages. Is any of the family still around?"

"Yeah, Cordelia still lives here. I'm married to her." So the daughter was still here. Delphine never had much against her. She was a sweet, however fragile, child, but it would be unfortunate if she showed up amidst Delphine's revenge on her mother. This man appeared delightfully clueless of her identity and she preferred to keep it that way, until she found out how to get to Fiona.

"I see. How is sweet Cordelia? Is she home?" It puzzled her how Cordelia had ended up with this man. Those strange eyes aside, her pretty looks surely could have gotten her something better. And brighter.

"She's, um, good. Yeah, she's fine. But no, she's not home at the moment. She'll be back in a few hours, if you want to wait for her."

"Oh that's kind of you. It's no matter, I'll come by another time. I did wonder…" She paused to look at him. Did she dare? "Would it be okay if I peeked inside? I used to visit this house often and I miss the sight of it. It's been so long."

"Er, sure, come on in. What did you say your name was?"

She thought she'd better be on the safe side. "Call me Pauline. It's such a lovely house, don't you agree?" The man nodded along with her, like a puppet on a string. She would enjoy poking at this one with a knife, but there was no time for games. She looked around her old workplace, while carefully making the clueless man of the house spilling the whereabouts of the previous habitant.

"She lives in Boston now, but Cordelia told me she's coming to visit in a week or so."

"Marvelous. I will stop by then – no, don't you tell her. Don't tell any of them, I want to surprise them. I'm told I have a flair for theater."

"Did you know Misty too?" He asked. This spiked Delphine's curiosity. The messy little wild child was next on her list. She deserved a good swing of a blade too, trying to obscure her plans. Little witch, she was.

"I did", Delphine answered, putting on a friendly smile as she looked around the kitchen. "Where is she now?"

"Well, Cordelia tells me she lives in the swamps or something? Somewhere inside the forest. They just recently met again. I haven't even met her."

"Oh so you don't know where in the forest?"

He shook his head. "I have no clue." The phone rang and he excused himself. Delphine found herself alone in the kitchen, suddenly surrounded by an overflow of useful tools. She listened for his voice out in the hallway, while silently coaxing a drawer open. Everything was still in their usual place. She took the prettiest blade in there and hid it in her clothes, making sure it couldn't be seen.

When the oblivious husband returned, Delphine excused herself.

"I've taken up too much of your time, now I must be on my way. Don't tell them of my visit or you'll ruin the surprise. Good day to you."

As she left the Goode mansion, she gently touched the place, where she had hidden the knife. Breathing in the moist air and feeling the smooth metal against her fingers, she felt like her true self again.


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: Sorry for the wait – didn't quite get it ready for yesterday as I had promised myself. Thanks again for reading and for all the kind words! Please enjoy :)**

* * *

"It appears Fiona has booked a flight. She really is coming back."

"When's the last time you saw her?"

Cordelia thought about it. "Two years I think. That was the last time we both lived in Boston. Over the next six months, I went back and forth setting up here. We talk on the phone sometimes, though."

"Wait, does that mean you've been here for almost two years and I only just found you now?" Misty's eyes shone with disbelief and perhaps regret. Cordelia looked down at her from her sitting position, not sure how to say that she felt the same regret.

The summer was nearing its end, but it would still be long before the wind grew cold enough to chase them inside. Cordelia loved the atmosphere of Misty's little shack, but more so the feel of her garden, which was just as private this deep into the forest. So closed off from the world.

She tried to explain: "I rarely go this deep alone. It was only because…" She trailed off again. It was only because Hank had said so many cruel things she needed to get as far away as possible as fast as possible.

"Are you ever gonna tell me what that fight was about?" Misty asked and sat up, ready to listen.

Cordelia sighed, tried to wave if off. "It was just a silly quarrel. Hank is drinking, probably more than he cares to admit, and you remember how much Fiona used to drink – I don't even know if she still does that, but it wouldn't surprise me – and it just hit a sore spot with me that day. I told him he should stop hiding it, since he was doing such a poor job anyway and he said he only drank, because he didn't know how to handle me, when I'm in a 'mood'. That's what he calls it. And then he told me there's something wrong with me." Cordelia spoke of the past fight with a casual voice. It wasn't the first time Hank had thrown these words at her. He didn't use to do that. At first, he would hold it in, but her illness had always scared him, she knew. He tried his best to hide it, but it showed. Now as the drinks emptied quicker his fears came to words faster. But by now she had had plenty of time to calm down, and they didn't sting as much.

Misty didn't take it with the same ease.

"There's nothin' wrong with you, Delia! How dare he say that? God, I could just…" She didn't finish the sentence, but Cordelia knew that look. She hadn't seen it in a long time, but she remembered it quite well from the times she told Misty about the bullying as a child.

"Oh but there is- it's okay, Misty, don't mind it. I wasn't particularly nice to him either."

"Don't tell me it's okay! Your husband shouldn't talk to you like that! _No one_ should."

Cordelia chuckled. She wasn't sure why she was suddenly nervous again. "How _should_ he talk to me then? It's not like it wasn't true."

"I don't _care_ if some doctor found a lack of whatever-you-said-t'was in your brain, it doesn't give _anyone_ the right to throw it in your face!" Misty almost yelled it out. She swallowed once and continued in a softer voice: "He should only say nice things to you. He should tell you how beautiful and amazin' you are, how kind, how selfless you are, how…" She trailed off, but stared at the blushing Cordelia and let her eyes speak the rest. They said more than any word could and with such intensity, Cordelia felt her whole body warm up again. Her breathing suddenly took more effort and she really had to go somewhere else, because she had a pretty good idea of what would happen within the next minute, if she didn't.

"I-I have to get a glass of water." She didn't wait for Misty's answer, but got up and almost fled inside. She stood over the sink for a moment in the sudden dark and tried to calm her frantic heart. When she heard steps she reached for a glass and had it filled once Misty stood beside her.

"I'm not sayin' I wanna ignore what's in your head. If the doctor says you should take medicine, I'm sure he's right. But doesn't mean…" Misty struggled for words. Cordelia, currently dedicated to emptying her glass, felt a hand tug at her own. She met Misty's gaze and understood perfectly what it was Misty had trouble formulating. And her gaze was so loaded with adoration Cordelia had to swallow once, because her throat felt too tight to breathe through. The tension she had tried to escape outside seemed to be latched onto her still, building in the space between them.

"I know", she choked out.

Misty offered her a lopsided smile. "Good."

Cordelia sat down the glass, but her other hand hadn't let go of Misty's yet. And she didn't want to. She only wanted to pull her closer and the urge became so strong it made her head spin.

"I have to go", she gasped and let go of Misty's hand, as her feet dragged her towards the door. She almost ran, she was out of the door and the fading sunlight hit her, when…

"Cordelia."

The rare use of her full name made Cordelia freeze to the spot with her heart pounding as if she had just sprinted a mile. She could hear the sound of Misty's feet coming closer, slowly, tentatively. Cordelia knew that if she said no this time, it would be the end of it, this thing that had grown – possibly for years she admitted – and perhaps their friendship too. She couldn't bear it. She couldn't bear the thought of never feeling like that again, never feel so alive. If she walked away now her body would go back to sleep and stay sedated forever.

Misty's steps silenced. Cordelia closed her eyes and drew in a shaky breath.

Then she turned around to find Misty standing in the doorway, her eyes instantly locked on Cordelia's own. Cordelia took the two steps and crashed into her, lips first, with such force it made them back into the shack again. She buried her hands in Misty's unruly curls and in the dim light of the shack, it was as if the entire world ceased to exist. Misty pulled at her with need guiding her every movement, she poured every ounce of her ferocity into it and Cordelia couldn't remember the last time someone had kissed her like this. Like the earth would stop moving if they did. Like even if the earth did stop moving, she wouldn't care. Something, somewhere in her head was making her aware that she was crossing into dangerous territory, but she couldn't bring herself to care, she could barely think. All she knew was that she never wanted to stop, even though she knew she absolutely should.

When the time came, it was Misty who broke the kiss to catch her breath. And she beamed brighter than the sun. Neither of them spoke. Misty's hands were still fisted in Cordelia's dress, as if afraid she would run away again. Cordelia wouldn't dream of it. Not this time. It felt different, like something had clicked into place instead of hitting her in the head with shock like the first time. Her hands slid out from Misty's hair and rested at her neck instead. She could feel Misty's rapid pulse through her skin and not just in her hands but everywhere, as they stood there, pressed up against each other. She felt at home here, she realized.

Cordelia finally regained control over her body and smiled back at Misty. She silently wished to stay here in the moment for all eternity, so to keep from facing the consequences of she had just done. Misty seemed to sense it, because she reached down for another kiss. It was much softer this time, heartfelt in another way. Cordelia felt like her entire body melted away, blood and bone, until there was only her fraction of their kindred spirit left to float in the warm air of home.

That night Cordelia went home to a very confused Hank, who couldn't possibly understand why she was in such a good mood all of a sudden. For now, the bone deep sensation of warmth overshadowed the guilt, and she couldn't suppress the smile. She tried to cover it up of course, act normal, but with little success. In his eagerness to understand, Hank accidently gave her a way out.

"Is it because of that treatment your doctor started?"

"Oh, well yes, I suppose it is. It does involve some hormone changes. He warned me of that." It wasn't entirely untrue after all, she had started the treatment. She just hadn't felt any real effects yet.

Hank shrugged it off after that. "As long as it works", he said and gave her a kiss on the cheek. Now that she appeared to be in a much lighter state of mind, he wasn't afraid to touch her.

Cordelia didn't sleep much better, but for different reasons now. She lay awake many a night, thinking about Misty and their time together. It felt natural again, but in a different way as they moved into this new territory. When they greeted each other it was with kisses now, and new kinds of pleasant silences arose as they found their lips occupied with something other than talking.

They hadn't taken it further than that yet. The thought still scared Cordelia. She didn't need to voice it, because as with so many other things, Misty understood, no words needed. Cordelia was grateful she didn't have to speak of her fears, because she wasn't that sure she could. Parallel to this there was a constant nagging deep within her chest, telling her that what she was doing was against the vows she had once taken. But was it really cheating? Was this really anything but a new and more physical way to express the connection they had, that they have always shared, probably since the day they met? And wasn't she allowed to feel happy with Misty after all the hurt her mere name used to associate with? Cordelia didn't tell Hank any of this, which should have told her something, but instead she pushed it away and left the space for happier thoughts. God knows she had earned the right to some of those for once.

O0O

Women are loaded with hormones. So full, they can spill over at any minute. Hank's father used to tell him that, when he became a teenager. It was his way of telling Hank to be careful before choosing one to settle down with. Hank didn't do such a great job avoiding the really hormonal ones, it seemed, but again, according to his father, all women were alike. Hank rarely agreed with his father, which included his view on woman, but at the moment he was inclined to admit the man was onto something. Cordelia had alternated between hanging in the clouds and hitting the basement without the slightest warming quite frequently in the past days. What worried him was that she was usually happy coming home, but as the night went on her mood fell again. Hank couldn't help but worry that he was doing something wrong. He never bragged about knowing women. He had learned, very early in their relationship, that asking his wife if her borderline schizophrenic mood swings were due to 'that time of month' was extremely unwise. Yet the question still rolled around on his tongue whenever she pulled a stunt like today.

Cordelia came home with a poorly hidden smile on her face, causing Hank to ask, curiously:

"What are you smiling about?"

He should always remember the old saying that you can ruin a thing by talking about it, because he seemed to have done just that. Cordelia's smile fell as soon as he asked. He could see it in her face that he had done something wrong, but as countless of times before, he just had no clue what it was.

"Oh it was just a nice day with the kids."

"Okay. Great. Did you swing by Misty again?"

"I did."

It only went downhill from there.

Hank often gave a little thoughts here and there to the mysterious childhood friend of Cordelia's, living in the swamps. Like what kind of person lives in the swamps? According to Cordelia, she didn't have any education, because she was an orphan wild child and never went to school. Hank had never met any wild children and he had only the Mowgli to compare to, which spawned a bunch of scenarios involving this child – with blonde curly hair apparently – dancing around with swamp rabbits and foxes and alligators. What other animals did the Louisiana swamp have? He thought of bears and snakes and soon he had the whole cast of the Jungle Book pictured. And Cordelia wasn't much help. She didn't talk much about Misty anymore, which made Hank think she was trying to keep them separate from each other for some reason.

" _Misty's not that taken with people_ ", she had said. Was that code for 'she doesn't like you, Hank'?

To satisfy his curiosity he sometimes asked over dinner what she was like and often got the same answer he did today:

"She's… it's difficult to explain, because I doubt anyone see her like I do anyway."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Sometimes this would cause her to snap something at him with an impatient voice and it started out that way, but to Hank's surprise, she continued.

"I can't explain it, Hank. She's very in touch with nature, she's… feral somehow, but at the same time she has the most gentle heart. She has room for everything, but she's chary when it comes to people. She makes good tea." The last addition caused a crooked smile to break out on Cordelia's face. Hank hadn't seen one of those in a while.

"Okay, so do I ever get to meet her?"

"Oh um, sure. Someday."

And that was the end of it. It made Hank think that her friend wasn't the only one being mysterious, but he let it slide for now.

Trouble came later that night, when he walked in on Cordelia changing; something he didn't do often, because he knew it bothered her, when he saw her scars. What was so different tonight was that when he looked, at first he saw none. Cordelia stood in her underwear and her otherwise so scarred thighs were now only pale and almost smooth.

"Babe, what happened to all your scars?" He blurted out. For a moment he was so staggered, he forgot to tiptoe around the word.

Cordelia quickly looked down at herself with an 'oh' and covered herself up. Hank thought it was a weird thing to do – why cover yourself up when you're looking better?

"Are they _gone_?"

She stared at him for a moment as if unsure what to say. Hank must have looked equally perplexed. Finally she said: "Well not all of them, but…"

"How?" He couldn't help stepping closer to look.

"Hank, you're staring."

"Of course I am! You're… Well your skin looks so… How did you do this?" He looked up at her and didn't understand why she looked so irresolute. Like she was withholding something.

She sighed once. "Misty did it." She made it sound like some huge confession. Hank took a seat, because something about his wife's expression told him this was a serious thing.

"How did she do it? I mean I thought they couldn't be removed."

Cordelia sat down beside him and looked him in the eye. "If I tell you, you can't tell anyone else, okay? _Anyone_."

"I won't, I promise. What's going on?"

"Misty has a skill of sorts, when it comes to healing."

"Healing? Are you trying to tell me she's a witch or something?"

Cordelia chuckled with one of those little nervous laughs he had always found ridiculously attractive. "I guess you could say that. If it makes it easier."

"So she healed you. Well that's great! It looks much better, it's like nothing happened at all! Does this mean I get to look at you now?"

He could see it in her eyes instantly that he had just said the worst possible thing. Her whole face darkened and she looked away. She mumbled something intelligible.

"What was that?"

When she looked at him again, there was a quiet fire in her eyes just waiting to burst. "You always focus on the things that's wrong with me. You're only relieved I don't look as broken anymore, instead of accepting me as I am."

"I only said it was looking good now!"

"Because I was so horrible to look at before?" She got up from the bed and threw the robe around her slender body, covering the core of their problems. Her voice was reaching that dangerous pitch, and Hank knew deep down the worst thing was to agitate her further, but he could feel a fury building.

"Stop twisting what I'm saying! I promised you I would disregard their existence, if you wanted me to and I did that!" He got up too, his voice building, because she was about to flee the room and he hated when she did that. It was always either the forest of the bathroom and none of those were good.

"I wanted you to accept that they were there!"

"That's the same thing!"

"No it's not!" The fire flared in her eyes behind the glossy exterior.

"Look, I don't know what you want from me now? I don't look because you get mad when I do. And now you get mad at me for _not_ looking either? I can't win with you!"

"Why does it have to be about you? Why can't you _help_ me, instead of making it about you? You're always avoiding it, afraid to touch me like my depression will _infect_ you!" She was in tears now and her voice trembled from it.

"That's bullshit! I don't do that! I want to help you, you know that, just tell me how!"

"I can't! I don't fucking know! I'm the damaged one, I don't know." Her voice broke apart in the end and the tears were streaming down her cheeks. Without another word, she turned on her heel and ran out of the room.

Watching her run away felt like a cold shower, forcing him back to his senses. The regret felt like ice stabs in his gut and he ran after her.

"Cordelia!"

Cordelia slammed the bathroom door. He could hear her crying on the other side.

"Cordelia, I'm sorry."

"Just go away."

"No, let me in please." He tried to turn the handle, but she had locked the door. Locked in with all the razor blades. He really had to start hiding those. "Open up!"

"Go away Hank!" She screamed.

His anger flared up, culminated with the cold in his gut and he hit the wall with an frustrated grunt. Then he went down stairs for a drink. Or three.

O0O

Misty had never before experienced such pleasurable detachment from the world around her. She sat on Cordelia's lap, straddling her, as close as she could possibly get. She was held, mind and body, in a feverish haze of touching lips and breathing only sufficient to keep the moment going. Misty felt utterly intoxicated by everything about it, from the thick air filled with Cordelia's familiar, yet slightly different, perfumed scent, to the little humming noises she made. It had been light out when they settled in on the bed, but now an emerging twilight hovered outside the perimeter of Misty's tiny world. One of Cordelia's hands left its position at Misty's waist to slowly – so excruciatingly slow – move up her thigh, pushing her dress upwards in the motion. When it ran out of lane, her hand clawed and Misty felt short nails scrape against her skin. She gasped and stifled the sudden urge to roll her hips, as heat pulsated through her. Misty only vaguely remembered feeling something like this as a teenager, but never this strong. This was playing with her sanity.

She let go of Cordelia's lips for just a moment, to take air in and drank the soft snicker ringing in her ears. She heard Cordelia's voice then, in fractions and sounding thick with the same haze, Misty felt clouding her brain.

"I didn't know I could feel like this", she said before taking another kiss. "I mean I knew I was…" And another. "But not like this." The next one hit her throat and Misty swallowed a moan. There were embers of that long lost low-burn heating up in her stomach. "Doesn't it frighten you?"

"No", Misty breathed. She wasn't really up for conversation, but obliged Cordelia's need to word the situation. She moved away just an inch to catch Cordelia's eyes, in case her words didn't say enough. "I've always known, Delia. I've wanted to kiss you like this since I hit puberty."

Misty was still trying to comprehend that her feverish teenage dream was finally playing out. And whatever life went on outside the forest, she disregarded, because she had only room for this. This feeling, this guarded angel between her two hands. She had never imagined touching another human being could feel so good. Today she wanted no more words from her partner, only the warmth of her embrace and the divine taste of her mouth. Misty leaned down for another taste, entangling her fingers in Cordelia's silky hair and prepared to ascend to the cloud, she had been floating on for the past few days, when a loud, intrusive tune made her jump. She realized it was Cordelia's phone.

Cordelia groaned in frustration and shot a regretful glance at the phone buzzing on the table.

"I should take that."

She looked at Misty, who realized she was keeping her from moving, and Misty reluctantly crawled off, so Cordelia could reach her phone.

She mouthed 'Hank' as she answered.

"Yes?"

Misty could only hear a distorted buzzing of a voice at the other end, but did nothing to improve her eavesdropping opportunity. She secretly wanted to grab the phone and toss it out the window instead, but she behaved.

"I am", Cordelia said. Misty watched her face for signs that anything was wrong. Cordelia hadn't told her husband about them. Honestly, Misty couldn't see what kind of claim that little piece of shiny metal on her finger had over her. It couldn't possibly mean more than this. But Misty didn't say this. She knew Cordelia understood her view on things and it was ultimately up to her. There was nothing Misty could do about it.

Cordelia started to look irritated.

"Are you complaining about me spending time with friends now?" More buzzing, which made Cordelia roll her eyes in a way that brought out just a hint of her otherwise well concealed relation to Fiona. "Yes, I do realize _Misty_ is not plural."

There was more buzzing and then Cordelia got up and took her phone call outside. Misty let herself fall back on the bed, listening for changes in Cordelia's voice, as the smoldering embers in her lower stomach started to subside.

She came in shortly after, looking irritated.

"You okay?"

She nodded. "He's just being difficult. I should head home though. I have some assignments from my second grade I need to look over."

"You could just do that here?"

Cordelia gave her a regretful smile. "I don't have them with me. Besides…" She leaned in over Misty, close to her face but lips not yet touching. "I doubt I would be able to concentrate."

Misty couldn't argue with that. Every thought in her head had already been wiped away. She flashed Cordelia a wide grin and pulled her down. She almost managed to drag her down onto the bed, when Cordelia stood up again. Misty groaned in frustration. Cordelia disappeared out of her view and it took Misty a moment to get up. Her body still wasn't quite itself, sort of dazed and slow reacting.

Cordelia squealed a moment later, making Misty fly up and then choke down her laughter as Cordelia comically jumped back from the doorway. Nick had shown his scaly face.

"He's startin' to like you! He'd never come this close if not."

"Well that's, um, nice. Can you please?" She gestured towards the small alligator in the doorway. Misty snickered and chased him away to clear the door.

"He won't bite you, I told you."

"So you say, but…"

"Don't you trust me?"

"Of course I do! It's the dinosaur's cousin out there I don't trust." She looked horrified for a moment. "He doesn't understand me, does he?"

Misty couldn't help but laugh at the look on her face. When Cordelia started to look offended, Misty kissed her, effectively wiping the frown away.

"No, don't worry. See you tomorrow, darlin'."

They hugged and then Cordelia was on her way. As Misty stood in her door, watching her leave, Nick crawled back.

"I'm glad you listen, Nick. No one can hurt my Delia. And you can't eat her husband either, if he ever comes here, okay? She wouldn't like that."

The alligator stopped ruffling around and laid still by her garden. Misty smiled at it. "Thanks for understandin', Nick. I appreciate it." Misty went inside, turned on her radio and threw herself back on the bed. She sang along to a couple of Stevie's best hits and tried to picture what could have happened if Hank had never called.


	18. Chapter 18

Weakness was below Fiona. Caving in was far below her. Caving in was something that lesser people did and even though her law firm might have fallen at the hand of a traitorous little fox, who also happened to have married her daughter, Fiona would not bow to the pressure. Not even when they continuously trampled on her fight for re-establishment. She was stronger than everyone else, tougher. Sickness was below Fiona. Sickness was for lesser people too. Throwing up in the bushes was certainly below her.

Even so, she did just that before walking up the isle and through the door of her mansion.

With her breath safely concealed, she walked through the entrance hall of her old home, not bothering to close the door behind her. She headed straight for the kitchen, in desperate need of a glass of water. And then something stronger.

Hank appeared around the corner, most likely called to by the sound of her heels clacking. They say dogs are good at recognizing people by their walks.

"Oh it's you", he said, purposely forgetting to put on his friendly face. Hank loved to hate her. And despise her he did, but not quite as much as she despised him.

"Scram boy, I do not have the energy to look at you. Go fetch me something from you secret liquor stash, will you?"

She didn't give him time to answer, but strode on through the long hall. She found Cordelia in the kitchen.

"You could knock", she said, as Fiona entered. No hello. Fiona wasn't expecting it. She didn't care either. All that mattered was that she got herself something to cool down, before the sweating gave her away. Why did her doctor torment her like this? Did he not know how to lay down a goddamn schedule?

"In my house? I don't think so." She grabbed a glass – thanked God, nothing was ever rearranged in this house – and filled it. She emptied it with Cordelia watching.

"Long flight?"

Fiona ignored her. The nausea still twirled around her insides, making her guts whiter like a mean eel in crowded waters. She went for the living room, almost threw herself into the nearest chair. God, she was exhausted. She longed for a place to lay down and some peace and quiet.

Cordelia came in after her, walking silently somewhere behind her. Rougher steps joined, letting Fiona know that the frightened little boy had crawled out of the shadows again. Fearful little man, he was. How he had ever gathered the guts to sell Fiona out the way he had, was beyond her.

Fiona ignored them both, occupied willing her body to obey, to stop feeling sick and _behave_.

"Give me a minute with her", she heard Cordelia's soft voice say. Hank left the room with his heavy steps. He sounded like an elephant compared to her. She knew from experience that opposite attraction was a powerful force, but God. Not to mention inherited flaws.

"Christ Cordelia, I don't know how you've managed to find a copy of someone you've never known, but that man…"

"I doubt he's that much like my father", Cordelia said, as she walked into Fiona's view. She was going to say more, but Fiona interrupted her.

"He's exactly like your father. For Christ sake, if you insist on taking from me, why on earth would you go for all the flaws?"

Cordelia sighed and looked away. "Always nice to see you, mother", she muttered.

"You could have done much better you know." Fiona sat up, afraid her body would get the better of her and make her slouch. The motion made her feel like throwing up again, but she refused to acknowledge it. "Look at you. You cover up so much you might as well wear a sheet like a goddamn child for Halloween. You could have done much better than that scruffy fox, if you just let yourself shine. You have my blood, yet you insist on dressing like… I don't even know." She scoffed, the miserable pain adding a taunting sharpness to her voice. "I can imagine it's hard putting together a decent outfit, when you can only ever match it to one eye, but you're not even trying anymore, are you?"

Cordelia chuckled helplessly. "My, that must have been one horrible journey. Why, do you have no one to pick on back in Boston? Is that why you wanted to visit? Just to tear me down? Because a phone call will do next time." She made a motion to get up.

"No, I'm sorry, Cordelia. I didn't mean that. It's been a trying week. I wanted to know how you are doing?"

Cordelia made a noise that resembled both scoffing and laughing. A perfect balance for her daughter. "Really? You just want to know how I am? What's wrong with you, Fiona? You look sick."

"I don't get sick."

But Cordelia wasn't fooled. She watched Fiona with a scrutinizing expression, which made Fiona want to flee the room. If that damn boy had just brought her something to calm her nerves, but obviously she was expected to do everything herself.

"You look terrible. We made up the guest room for you."

"I take it you and boy Foxx is taking up my master bedroom?"

"That one we did redecorate", she just said. She got up and offered Fiona a hand, which Fiona refused.

"I can walk, thank you. Don't act like a servant, it's beneath you."

"Kindness is not beneath anyone, mother." She steadied Fiona as her traitorous body wavered for a second. "You didn't used to get travel sick. Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine. Let go of me." They walked towards the stairs. Cordelia kept her hands to herself, but Fiona could feel her worried gaze on her face. "Tell me of Misty then, if you refuse to talk about yourself. You said she lives in the swamps again?"

A loaded silence came over her daughter. It made Fiona turn – cursing internally at the spinning in her head – to look at her. A hardness had found its way into her eyes, something that was rare for Cordelia.

"You never told me she came back. After I had left for college. Misty told me that she came back for me and you just sent her away."

"In retrospective that was probably a mistake", Fiona admitted. For more than one reason. She started ascending the stairs with dread. Right now, they looked like an undefeatable quest.

Behind her Cordelia laughed, but there no trace of joy in her voice. "That's all you have to say? You sent my best friend away. You know how much it hurt me, when she left."

Fiona turned around on the stairs again. "Why do you think I did it? Christ Cordelia, you were _miserable_. You didn't eat or sleep for a week. She just abandoned you without warning. Did you think I was going to let her do that over just like that? Do you think me so cruel?"

Cordelia suddenly looked horrified. "I… It didn't even occur to me."

"I can see that. I suppose it's good if you've made up, but don't forget that she hurt you first. _She_ left."

"You should still have told me." Her eyes had turned blank with tears. She didn't move as Fiona took another step up the staircase from hell.

"Perhaps. But how much would it have changed? You got your little husband out of it, did you not? Now, it's already late and it has been a long day. Have Hank bring up my luggage. I trust one of you can conjure up some breakfast tomorrow, now that the servants are either in jail or scattered. Goodnight."

Fiona left her daughter on the stairs, climbed the last of it as sweat broke out on her forehead again. She fought her way to the guest room, went straight for the bathroom, where she turned on the water at full force and used it as cover, when she threw up again.

O0O

Her mother's words still rang in her ears, when Cordelia made breakfast with Hank the next morning. Misty had indeed abandoned her without warning. No matter which way she turned this, no matter what angle she looked from, she couldn't deny this fact. Misty left her without a moment's notice. Cordelia had accepted it, no, she had let it slide, because she didn't want to ruin her newfound joy with Misty, but now it burned again. The old wound, which had taken years to close, gnawed at her heart once again and she was alone with the pain. She could tell neither Hank nor Fiona, because then she would have to reveal the grey zone of friendship, she and Misty had entered.

"You're sure you don't want to talk about it?" Hank offered that morning, as she watched him push the scrambled eggs around the frying pan. She put distance between them, hugged a mug of tea in her hands and tried not to look affected.

"It's nothing, Hank. Just my mother being herself."

She was obviously failing her attempts, because Hank set the eggs aside and went to put his arms around her waist. "Fiona is truly a piece of work. She makes my dad look like a doe-eyed, fuzzy, little bunny. I'm here, if you need me, alright?"

"Thank you", she said and offered him a smile. He gave her one back, along with a soft kiss.

"What a pleasant morning it was until five seconds ago."

Hank sighed against her face. "Speaking of the devil", he muttered before turning around. "Fiona, good morning, huh? Did the flames of hell drag you out of bed too early?"

She smiled at him, her superiority making her almost visibly taller than him. "That's sweet. Be a good boy and cut some melon, will you?"

He was just about to start, when Cordelia stopped him and told him in a low voice: "Don't bother. She's more vicious, when she doesn't feel well." Hank mumbled a few profanities instead and went for the knives.

"I don't understand why you don't have servants", Fiona said, her gaze wandering about.

"Because we don't need servants."

Fiona shot her a skeptic look. She found a high shelf, dragged a finger across the surface and studied the dust hanging from it. "I think 'can't afford it' is what you meant to say."

"Where is that damn knife?" Hank said, a welcomed interruption to Fiona's gloat. "Babe, have you seen the big one I use to cut melon? I can't find it."

"I don't know, Hank." Cordelia hated that it was only nine o'clock and she already sounded tired.

"Dust and missing utensils. I trust you're taking care of my house?"

Hank turned and was just about to give back, when Cordelia broke in: "Stop it! Both of you! Use the smaller one, Hank, we'll find the other later. Mother, _please_."

Fiona didn't say more. Breakfast became the silence in the wait for another battle cry and as soon as it was over, Cordelia fled the house. Twelve hours was already too much. Her thighs hurt again today. She feared she had cut too deep and that in vain, because she still couldn't keep her coiled up emotions in check. She was halfway on the path to Misty's shack, when she remembered the feeling she woke up with this morning and she contemplated going back. Still, her feet carried her to Misty's door and she knocked without a second thought.

Misty appeared almost instantly.

"Hey", she said with a smile, which quickly fell again as their eyes locked. She let Cordelia enter in silence.

Cordelia hadn't been prepared for the sudden anger rushing through her system the second she saw Misty's face. She couldn't just bring it up like that, they had buried the issue. She had put it to rest. Bringing it up was like waking the dead. Dwelling in the past. Did she really want that?

Misty caught her hand. "Tell me what's botherin' you?"

She thought about it. She looked into Misty's eyes and for a moment, she wanted to scream at her. But she didn't.

"Fiona came back yesterday. She must have caught a virus on the way, because she's sick with something and it's making her more malicious than ever."

"Sorry." Misty leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on her temple, the way she often did, when Cordelia was upset. Despite Cordelia's reluctance, it made the room a little brighter for a moment.

"Cup of tea?"

"Yes please. That would be lovely. It's getting a little chilly out there."

"Yeah, it is. Gotta be quick 'bout it if you want the kids to come out here."

"I'm still working on it. I've gotten the parent's approval, now I just need the board to listen. What do you do in the winter out here? Doesn't it get too cold?"

"Na." Misty shrugged as she filled the cups. "Sometimes it's a little cold. But I manage. Some winters I go find work at a bed 'n breakfast and make a deal to stay there for a couple weeks."

The thought of Misty sitting in this shack on a cold winter night made Cordelia want to hug her close. At the same time, she felt the need for distance today. She hoped Misty would accept it. She didn't think she could handle a fight with her.

"I hope you're not too cold. I wouldn't want you getting sick."

"I don't get sick, silly, remember?" Misty's threw her a smile warm enough to thaw a glacier and handed Cordelia the cup. She sat down on her bed as Cordelia had taken the one chair. They often sat like this, just talking and today Cordelia was grateful for the table between them. It made the pull towards Misty slightly less disturbing of her attempt to stay away. When the pull started to take over anyway, she thought of the pain in her skin. She had told Misty it wasn't her fault and in truth, it was only Cordelia's own weakness that steered the blade, but if Misty hadn't left…

"That's right. I forgot."

Cordelia didn't say more and instead Misty told her about one time the river had frozen over and all the alligators had crawled up on land.

"-t'was a mess, Delia, they stomped down all my plants and it was hard keepin' them from attackin'. They get a little mean, when they can't catch things in the water. I had to go away for a while. Luckily, Nick was smart enough to leave too."

"I thought you had a deal with nature? You told me they don't hurt you."

"Well I ain't gonna rub it in their faces. They're animals, Delia, gotta give 'em their space. They were here first."

"You're wonderful", Cordelia just said and she meant it, all hurt aside. She started to relax, so much she forgot to keep her composure about her cuts. Misty seemed to have just that neutralizing effect on every one of her defenses. Cordelia only winced a little and suddenly Misty was eyeing her with those hard crystal eyes.

"Are you hurt again?" Cordelia didn't get a chance to lie, before Misty had gotten up from the bed and kneeled before Cordelia. She put a hand on her knee, looking up and silently asking which side. Cordelia showed her and Misty carefully pulled up her skirt.

It was different this time, yet not. They had acknowledged that tension, which she had felt the last time. They had not given it a name, however, and Cordelia was caught in a new emotion of holding back. Watching Misty do this again pulled out a sense of déjà vu.

It was only three little cuts, but one of them had gotten too close to a larger vein and it had started bleeding again, when she moved just before.

"I'm usually better at avoiding the bleeders", she said with a hint of dry humor. Her blood colored Misty's finger, when they slipped over her skin. Misty only looked up to acknowledge that she had heard her, but didn't answer. Absentmindedly, she licked the blood off her fingers and it started the strangest kind of battle in Cordelia. Suddenly her body warmed up again, and not only underneath Misty's healing hand, but she didn't want to give in this time. She wanted to be the one in control for once. She was still hurt.

The supernatural warmth subsided like last time, but now Misty leaned down and briefly pressed her lips to the new skin. For a moment, Cordelia's reluctance took a backseat to cravings for more contact and the balance threatened to fall out, but she kept composure.

Misty pulled her skirt down again, and with a hand on each leg she rose herself up, until their faces aligned. She did nothing, only looked into Cordelia's face. Cordelia had to fight for self-control again.

"You don't wanna kiss me", Misty said. It wasn't a question. "What's wrong?"

"Who says there's something wrong?"

"No, don't do that. Don't pretend like I don't know you. It might work on Hank or Fiona, but doesn't work on me." She stood up in full height, but kept eye contact, waiting for an answer.

She was right. These little tricks of avoiding the subject had never worked on her.

"You're right of course. As always."

"You're mad at me." Again, not a question. Cordelia sighed in defeat. It took a moment to gather enough courage to look up.

"Can we just not talk about it right now? I'm sorry, but I can't handle more today. Just the thought of going home to those two in a couple of hours gives me headaches. I'm not even sure the house is still standing. They really hate each other. I'm not sure why, honestly. It's a lot of little things, their enormous differences causing friction and all that about them being competition, but I feel like there's something I'm not seeing and I just _can't_ deal with anymore today." She was already tearing up again and she prayed that by some miracle, Fiona would be gone, when she got home. She didn't really care how.

Misty proved herself a savior yet another time with a quiet nod. She disappeared behind her bed for a moment and came back up with a blanket. She made Cordelia stand up and hugged the blanket around her shoulders.

"There. C'mon, I'll show you what plants you oughta tell your kids 'bout 'fore they visit."

Cordelia smiled and found Misty's hand, as they went outside.

O0O

Hank didn't hate his father as much as he may tell people in bars. He loved him in secret and he wasn't idiot enough to believe it wasn't the same case for Cordelia and her dreadful mother. But Fiona had a league of her own. She was the golden champion of sharp insults and Hank couldn't stand to be around her.

One thing above all others made him hate her company: He was terrified she knew what he had done. What part he had played in her defeat. And if she told her daughter, Hank would lose Cordelia's trust forever. He couldn't bear it. The thought agonized him so much he debated falling on his knees and begging the wicked witch not to tell. But he couldn't risk exposing the secret, if it was still that.

So he stayed away as much as possible, hoping his absence would make Fiona less tempted to out him, in case she had the power to. And he didn't lack reason to work. Even on a Saturday. He had recently caught a fault in his own system, a biggie that could seriously hurt his position.

"It's not looking good, Hank." Was his boss' first word, when he confessed.

"I can fix it I promise, just look at those numbers!" He said, pointing at the paper. "It was only a few files that was switched."

"You should have caught this earlier. You seem unfocused. Everything alright with the wife?" The temperature in Hank's blood rose a couple of degrees. He had a sneaking suspicion his father had ratted out the main reason for Hank's lack of focus to his superior. For a moment all Hank wanted to do was shout _so what if I'm afraid I'll come home one day and find that she cut too deep this time, does that make me horrible at my job?_ The truth was it might and he knew it, so he shut up.

"It's fine. I'll do better."

"I hope so, Hank. Don't make it look like it was a mistake promoting you. If you can't handle the extra load, I'm gonna have to let you go."

With that in mind, he worked extra over the weekend, hopelessly trying to prove a point. When he went home hours later, he found the two women in the middle of an argument, the way only they could fight: With lightning flinging from their eyes and voices so cold the entire room dropped below frost degrees. Hank could practically see his own breath, when he neared the kitchen.

"Don't you dare lie to me, child. Tell me you're not so blind, you haven't even considered it?"

"Not everyone is as scheming as you, mother."

"This one is, believe me."

Hank made a point of making himself heard, before he stepped into the kitchen. A disgusting kind of fear crawled around in his guts, as he got closer, because he was afraid the fight was about him this time.

He found Fiona casually leaning against kitchen counter with a drink in hand and Cordelia standing in the middle of the room, her arms crossed, her eyes dangerously close to tearing up and disrupting the lightning storm. All three of them knew _that_ was the moment, she would lose the fight.

"I don't believe you", Cordelia said. There was a stubborn look in her eyes, which made Hank feel like he was safe yet. The connection between them broke, when Cordelia turned her gaze to Hank instead. Her expression softened and she crossed over to him, ignoring Fiona.

"Hi", she said, kissed him on the cheek and left the room. Hank followed quickly, as the thought of being alone in a room with Fiona right now was downright petrifying.

He gave Cordelia a moment, before going to her. He found her at the desk in their bedroom, correcting assignments from the kids again. He went over and put his hands on her shoulders.

"Did you have a good time with Misty today?" He didn't have to ask where she had fled to this morning. He wished he had a good buddy he could camp out at, but they all still lived in and around Boston. He rarely saw them.

"Yes, it was fine." Hank had learned that this particular word had a thousand different meanings and it was rarely the one he guessed.

"Did something happen? You seem upset about it?" Some of it might have been Fiona doing her magic, but he felt his wife's shoulders tense up the second he mentioned Misty's name. He was used to a much worse reaction, whenever her name was brought up, but now that they had become friends again, it concerned him. If her mysterious friend was giving Cordelia a hard time too, he thought she might just burst. And he didn't know which one to go yell at first.

"It's fine, Hank. It's just… I'm still mad at her for leaving me back then. But I don't feel like talking about it." She finally looked up. "Thanks for asking though. Can you give me an hour to finish these?"

"Sure, babe." He dared leaning down to give her a kiss. She put more emotion into it than he was prepared for. She was acting all strange these days, doing her crazy swings again, but this hint of lust was a lane that hadn't been run in a while, and he sure wasn't one to complain. He was just puzzled. It was as if something had flicked on inside her, that she couldn't quite stop again.


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N: I'm so flattered by all this support my story's getting! Didn't dare hope for as much attention as you guys have given me, since the season is long over, so thank you so much!**

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Delphine took a moment to stare at her beautiful daughter. For just a moment, she ignored the vile thing sharing her bed and payed attention to only her. Borquita was always her favorite. She made all the wrong choices, but she was a beautiful girl and she had a good heart. Delphine never understood how she had gotten hold of such a feature. Delphine knew deep down that her soul was not pure in the same way. But she could not care, because she had cleaning to do.

She started with the vile thing's throat.

Blood sprang from the deep tear in his flesh, tainted her already soaked hands with more filth and spattered on her dress. It was a fine painting of dark blood; within seconds, she was a walking piece of cleansing art.

The vile thing's eyes shot open and he started flinging his arms about in agonized panic as unarticulated throaty noises came out of his mouth. Borquita woke up screaming, as if she had seen the happenings in her dream, before realizing it was real. She pulled the blood-spattered blanket up to cover her naked body from the intruder, eyes seeing nothing in the dark. They hadn't gotten time to get used to it yet. Funny, Delphine thought, since she liked black so much.

Only now did her eyes fall upon the brutal scene before her.

"Ray! _Ray_!" Her shrill voice choked in a sob. His throaty noises died out as the blood in him became too sparse to circulate. Delphine had always enjoyed this moment, this magnificent second, in which the body gives up. It said a lot about a man, when this moment enrolled. These filthy ones always put up a good fight. Even as the blood circulated out, there was a moment where his eyes sought the space above him, looking for something prettier than the dark ceiling to gaze at in his last seconds. Borquita almost jumped into his view and the faintest hint of a smile curled at his lips before the haze of death came over his eyes.

Borquita let out a wrenched cry. She scanned the room frantically, too agitated to notice her mother, until she stepped over to examine her kill. " _Mother_! Mother, what have you done! You killed him! How did you get in here?!"

"You forget I used to work at the premises, child. Now come on. You've been with these people far long enough."

"Mother you are insane! I _loved_ him. Ray…" She touched his face with a shaking hand. His blood colored her pretty, white fingers.

"Don't do that now, you'll get yourself dirty. Quickly, girl, gather your things before they find us!"

Borquita did as she was told. She often fought Delphine on direct orders, but tonight she seemed to have lost her will to fight. She sobbed while packing and continuously looked at the body in the bed. Delphine had to help her pack to get them moving, before Laveau found out what had struck on her territory. She might soon notice the stench of her own kind of blood dripping from the man just outside.

O0O

Fiona spent the morning looking at her daughter, as she moved around the house, preparing for the day. In a weak moment last night, she had spilled the secret of her latest torment: The fertility testing. Often, when she told Fiona about her kids as school, Fiona noticed how the longing shone out of her and watching her this morning, Fiona hoped it would work. Cordelia walked around with her head bowed, as if a cloud of thunder hung over her head. Fiona hoped that if just some parts of her body regained function, she would finally break out of her shell.

Fiona noticed something else too. It happened when they crossed the subject of Misty. She tried pushing for information again, and Cordelia would usually speak of Misty with smiles, but not today.

"You're still mad at her for leaving, aren't you? Is it because of what I said?"

Cordelia shook her head. "No, you just reminded me. But I don't want to dig up old issues."

"Just tell me where she lives and I'll dig it up for you."

For that comment, she received a suspicious look. "Why would you do that? You never liked Misty."

"I only offered to go reprimand her for you. I don't have to like her to do that. All I need is directions." Fiona was running out of creative ways to make Cordelia tell her how to get to Misty without revealing her intentions. Cordelia couldn't know. She couldn't possibly handle it. And Fiona had hope that maybe the little savage had grown into a less obnoxious woman, who knew how to keep a secret.

"I have no intentions of sending you off to her, just so you can pick on her too", Cordelia said, as she cleaned the remainder of her breakfast off her plate. "Besides, like I said, it's old wounds. No need to restart the friendship by digging that up."

"You two don't need to restart anything, I imagine." Cordelia flinched at those words and then she looked away. It frustrated Fiona so, always seeing her bowing out this way. "Where's your sense of self-preservation, child? Don't let her step on you."

"Just like you are?" She spat.

"Did I not just offer to help?"

Cordelia didn't answer, but appeared to be in the middle of a choice. Then she sighed, barely audible, and went for a small box in one of the drawers. She popped a little pill out and swallowed it with water. Fiona loathed the sight. It hurt her in a way she didn't know how to express.

"Look at you", she said instead. "Look at where this attitude has left you. You pop pills just to get by."

Her daughter spun around on her heels, suddenly furious.

"And you used to sniff coke and drink to get by, how is that better? Or do you still? I'm curious, mother, why is it that you've repeatedly sabotaged your own body, but _you_ are still here, while Myrtle's dead?"

"Myrtle was seven years older than me. She was first in line. But don't worry, Papa Legba will get me too."

"I'm not worried", she said, but her voice wavered this time. Fiona wanted to throw back, but held her tongue. She was starting to realize that the father of death was not that far down the line for her either. Unless she got hold of Misty fast.

"Do you think I don't miss my sister?"

"I'm honestly torn", Cordelia replied in a stiff voice and crossed her arms.

"Don't be. I loved my sister in my own way. I loved how good she was with you. I hated her for it too."

"Why would you hate her for being good with me?" Her voice was an incredulous whisper. "What kind of thing is that to say?"

"Just think about it, Cordelia." She didn't get to say more, because just then Hank decided to make his appearance. She was sure he had been standing out there, waiting for them to play nice. He always was scared of women, especially those in a mood. How could he possibly handle her daughter with her depression? It hung over her always, so dark and with such harsh claws, it frightened even Fiona herself. On days like this, she doubted anyone really knew how to handle Cordelia, Cordelia herself included, but her useless husband least of all. Once again, Fiona found herself consumed with regret that she didn't put a stop to that wedding, when she had the chance. God knew, it wasn't the first time she had cut off an unhealthy partner.

"I'm heading to work now, babe. See you later?" He thoroughly ignored Fiona's presence and went to kiss Cordelia.

"I may be late. I have to sort that thing out with Misty."

"Okay." He squeezed her arm, gave her a quiet smile and left.

Fiona waited for the closing of the door, before asking: "What made you change your mind?"

"Don't you have work to do?"

"I suppose so."

"Well, _I_ have. I trust you can entertain yourself without raiding the liquor cabinet?" She was out of the door, before Fiona could give her an answer.

O0O

The twilight crept in from the depths of the forest, before Misty saw anything to Cordelia. She came by almost every day. And if not, she let Misty know the day before. Yet there was still no sight of her. Misty ate dinner in solitude, waiting for her, debating to go look for her in the growing dark. The Louisiana swamps were no place for a city woman like Cordelia. She might say she knew the path like the back of her hand by now, but she was known to get lost in the woods.

Misty had just about decided on going out after her, when she heard the familiar knocking on the door. She almost flew to it.

As always, Cordelia stood outside wearing a small smile. It had grown smaller these days, ever since her mother came back to town.

"I was just 'bout to go look for you."

"I'm sorry." She gave Misty an apologetic smile. "I got held up at school. I'm a slow thinker these days."

"I doubt it", Misty said, as she stepped close. Cordelia let her kiss her today, but there was the same thing in it, which had circled the air last time. Misty drank the feeling from her lips, tasting if not reluctance then hesitance. "Today's gotta be the day", She murmured into Cordelia's face.

"Excuse me?"

"Today you gotta tell me why you're mad at me."

Cordelia sighed, but stepped inside and Misty closed the door behind them. Cordelia went to the window, leaned against the frame, her eyes fixated on the floor. "I'm not sure how to say it. It's not that simple. And I think I'm just as mad at myself." She didn't say more, only kept her eyes on the floor as the silence weaved the tension thicker. Misty assumed she was gathering the courage to admit whatever it was. She had a good idea of what was coming for her.

"Tell me anyway. What'd I do?"

"You left me." It came out so sudden, as if in this second, Cordelia couldn't possibly hold it in any longer. The air changed in an instant. Misty's reward for a correct guess was the guilt snaking around in her gut. Her heart sped up, but only regret pumped through her system. She waited for Cordelia to look up.

When she did, her eyes were watered up and her expression painted with wide strokes of hurt.

"Yeah", Misty simply answered.

"How _could_ you?" Her words came out several pitches higher this time. "Do you have any idea how much you hurt me? Why did you leave like that, no goodbye, not a single look back? Not even a visit, just gone! Like I meant _nothing_ to you!"

"It wasn't that! I was a stupid teenager, Delia! I had just gotten my mama back! She was sick and dyin' and she told me I only had that one chance. What would you have done? I wanted to go see you, believe me I did, but once you're out, you're out for good. If I left to see you, I left my mama to die. And I _had_ to heal her. I had to try. She actually wanted me, Delia, she was just too weak to fight for me. I wasn't gonna make the same mistake. But she died anyway. And then I came back."

Cordelia's eyes were hard like stone. The tears stuck to the corners, started crawling out, but she disregarded them as she stared at Misty, body closed off and arms crossed for own protection. "Not good enough. You don't get to throw your dying mom in my face again and then it's all okay."

"I ain't sayin' it's okay."

"Then how can you be so calm? Why was it so easy to leave me? Tell me at least that."

"You think that was easy?"

"It sure felt that way!" Cordelia yelled it out, tears running down her cheeks now. "You said that you've wanted me since puberty, but how can I believe that, when you had all those years and didn't do _shit_ about it?"

"Because I was scared! Do you know how terrifyin' it is to love you? I was insecure, I had no idea what to do with all those feelin's. And I knew Fiona would kick me out the second I did somethin'! She told me!" Misty stopped for a moment, took a breath and gathered herself before adding, in a calmer voice: "Not that that's an excuse. I convinced myself to leave 'cause I loved you too much and it was killin' me."

"So it's _my_ fault now?"

"No, _don't_! Stop turnin' this 'round on yourself, I won't have it. _I_ made the mistake and I'm tryna explain why. You remember that night in your room, the night you took me to Madison's party?"

She didn't answer at first, as if she wasn't sure if she was done yelling or not. She looked around the room, and finally: "No. Not much of it anyway. I remember you were there and I remember having a hangover the day after. Why?"

"Cause' I remember everythin'. And I was so scared 'cause I thought about kissin' you all night and only when you were so drunk, you could barely walk, did you give me just a hint of what I hoped for."

"What did I do?" Present with all the hurt in Cordelia's voice was now a hint of curiosity. Amidst the heat of the fight, Misty suddenly felt a slight burning in her cheeks at the memory. She remembered how intense it felt back then and she poured the emotion into her gaze, when she finally spoke of it: "You just… touched my lip. With your thumb. And it did the strangest thing to me. If Fiona hadn't interrupted, I would've probably kissed you right there. But she did. And then my mama came and I escaped 'cause I didn't dare believe you felt the same. I thought I could make a new home over there, but I didn't get that my only home is with you. Always was."

Cordelia stared at her in silence for a moment. Misty fought a battle against the sudden heat in her body from the memory. Maybe it was the fight that made it feel so intense, but she didn't know what to do with it, regardless.

"But I did feel the same." Cordelia said. She looked far away in thought in that moment, as if trapped in those childhood memories she was trying to recall. Misty's insides twirled around in chaos as the guilt met a new sense of hope. Her pulse pounded in her throat. "In a way at least. I was just horrified at what people would think of me for indulging in it, so I pushed it away before I even knew what it was…" She looked like she was talking to herself above all. The anger in her eyes resolved.

"I'm sorry I ever left you", Misty said. "I really am. It's the worst thing I've ever done and I'd change it if I could."

Cordelia struggled for new words now. She caught Misty's gaze and the urgency of her unspoken words radiated from her. Then she asked: "Do you still love me?"

There was a nakedness to her stare, a vulnerability, which could make her break like glass at the wrong word. But Misty just smiled.

"Yeah. 'Course I love you. That's all I've ever been doin'. Wouldn't know how to _not_ love you."

Cordelia fell silent then. A smile twitched at her lips for just a second. She stepped away from the window, walked to Misty without a word and closed her arms around her neck.

Misty drew her arms around Cordelia's body at once to tighten the embrace. She could hear Cordelia exhale a trembling breath of repressed tears at her ear, but she didn't dare say a word. She only waited for Cordelia to give her a sign that they were okay.

Cordelia loosened her grip then. She didn't let go, but pulled Misty into a series of little kisses, napping at her bottom lip, brushing against it, barely touching. As if testing the waters in the aftermath of the fight. The air changed again, but into something altogether new. There was a hum in it, which rallied up Misty's heartbeat like a battle drum. Only this wasn't war. This was new territory and she wasn't sure, if she was forgiven or not, but she didn't interrupt. She let Cordelia have her control, let her decide the pace. She took her hands in her own, when they reached out. The trail of kisses moved from her lips to her jaw and down her neck. It was almost impossible to take without breaking the unspoken rule of submission.

"I love you too", Cordelia muttered against her skin. "God, I love you."

Misty knew the fight was over then. Lips returned to hers and it shot a current through her. It was a starting signal, a flash of light.

Cordelia withdrew her hands and they started searching. They grasped and tugged at Misty's dress. She started pulling at it, pulling it off and Misty let her. They came together again, kisses growing deeper.

Suddenly topless, the press of Cordelia's body felt different. It made her heart beat faster yet and blew life to the embers in her stomach. She wanted more contact, she wanted to feel that fine, milky skin, she had marveled over so many times. Misty's hands crawled, found the edge of Cordelia's blouse and snuck one hand inside. So soft. Just as she had always imagined. The heavy sigh she received ushered her on and soon Cordelia's top was off too, bringing them skin-to-skin. Misty was rapidly losing her ability to go slow. This new level, it was what was missing from their connection. The last thread. The longing for this had whispered from the corners of her consciousness for so long. Cordelia's long skirt fell to the ground, a perfect circle at her feet like the foot of the statue, the plateau for the divine creature standing in its middle. Cordelia was a sacred piece of nature's finest artwork and now she touched Misty, as if she was too. Her hand moved up Misty's body, graced her hips, her stomach and spread out over her breast. Misty gasped as it did, shocked at how intense these new touches felt, and pulled harder at Cordelia, willing her closer. Willing their bodies to melt together if possible.

Cordelia let go, chuckled with a short breath at the whimper jumping out of Misty's throat and pulled her to the bed. She sat down on it and her eyes and hands slid over Misty's body. Misty inhaled a sharp breath as lips pressed to the lean stretch of her stomach. Looking down at Cordelia's pale, perfectly smooth body, now only covered in lace underwear, Misty abruptly became self-conscious. As if she only now realized just what was happening. In the middle of her flush arousal, she suddenly became so nervous she had to laugh at herself.

Cordelia looked up at the sound, creasing her forehead.

"You know…" Misty said, as she crawled onto Cordelia's lap. "I've never actually done this before."

"I'll guide you." Her low voice did strange things to the embers in her stomach.

Arms closed around her, making a home of the embrace. Fingers traveled up her spine and Misty's skin tingled where the fingers touched.

Misty suddenly felt like she was back in that room with a racing heartbeat and a flood of emotions, she didn't understand. Only she understood better now. And Cordelia's touch wasn't a drunken tease. It was only the same kind of intoxicating haze, which lingered around them.

"You're makin' me feel like that scared teenager again."

"Tell me about it." Cordelia took Misty's hand and placed in on her chest. Beneath her skin, Misty felt the rapid thumping of a frantic heart.

She leaned down and caught Cordelia's mouth. Her hand moved, found a bra strap and coaxed it down. The haze was working its way into Misty's body, her very core and as they settled in to deeper kisses, new touches, Cordelia's smiles and hands and soft moans let Misty know that what she did was okay. And when Misty had an urge to roll her hips this time, she did. The friction of skin made the other woman emit a ragged moan, flaring up the ache of the embers. Muscles started to tighten up and Misty needed more. The air heated up in the small space between then. Breaths grew labored. Misty started to move with abandon, shut her mind off and listened for the sounds of Cordelia's body instead.

They turned and now Misty felt herself being pushed down on the bed. Cordelia freed them of the last barriers as Misty stared in wonder. The teenager inside her begged for the sight. This was finally happening. As Cordelia came down to her, every shape of their bodies free and connecting, Misty was no longer scared. She trailed every curve of the body above her, licked the moans from her lover's lips. Cordelia continued to stake her claim; trailing hot kisses down Misty already damp skin. Her pulse raced under the touch, her skin prickled with electricity. Lips below her ear, sucking on her collarbone, her breast and Misty's whole body seemed to curl up as Cordelia hit that sweet spot. She whimpered into the damp air and tried to keep still, tried to let Cordelia have her way, but now fingers were gracing her inner thigh and it was just all too much.

"Please Delia", she begged, without knowing exactly what she was asking for. She only knew she wanted to feel as consumed with every fiber of her being as her mind was in that moment.

Cordelia understood. Lips returned to hers and the fingers moved up.

Misty's next breath caught in her throat. Her hands fisted into whatever she could latch onto and her whole body tightened up.

When she opened her eyes again, she found Cordelia's. Reading them, Misty recognized that this last string, they missed in their connection, would seal it for good. Question and answer exchanged in the most honest way they knew how to communicate. Then Cordelia kissed her again and Misty felt like a bow being drawn, stretched until it couldn't possibly anymore. She felt like she was being pushed towards an edge of unknown, and she let it happen, trusting Cordelia's body to be the anchor to her sanity. Her heart was racing, the embers flared, her muscles ready to jump. Cordelia was relentless and Misty found herself gasping desperate, wordless prayers. Her lover teased her to the very edge, to a point where Misty felt barely conscious, barely attached to her own body and at the same time hopelessly chained to it in this all-consuming sensation, she had no name for.

And then, with a kiss on her neck to send her off, Cordelia pushed her over.

O0O

Cordelia watched Misty's sleeping face, wondering just how the determination to allow herself to be mad at her had brought them here. Perhaps it was that Misty didn't find excuses. Her gentle heart was large enough to swallow every shade of Cordelia's darkness and it was pure enough to keep from being damaged by it. She was willing to absorb every one of Cordelia's horrible emotions. She was even willing to let Cordelia be in control, something she had never been before. With Hank, whether it was intimacy or the everyday life, she was always on the receiving end, simply because Hank was just as afraid of losing his grip as she was. She had made peace with that, but this was different. Misty, despite all her forwardness and the overpowering strength of her soul, had given it up to let Cordelia lead. The canvas was hers to paint on, suddenly so much smoother and so much softer. And what she created, what _they_ created, was divine, something spawned from Cordelia's first touch and finished to the music of Misty's cries. Cordelia smiled to herself at the memories now, her body sore in all the good ways.

She looked at Misty's face and knew that no matter what name their relationship had after this night, she could never give it up. No matter where it took her.

Misty moved, called to consciousness by Cordelia's adoring thoughts. Cordelia had her arm around her waist underneath the blanket and she felt the motion as if it was her own body. In some way it was. Every part of Misty, inside and out was Cordelia's too now and she hers. They had made that choice last night.

Eyes found hers.

"Good morning, beautiful", Cordelia said to her, keeping her voice low, as if afraid too much noise would disturb the peace of this perfect morning. "How are you feeling?"

"Like a thirsty flower on a rainy day", Misty answered and flashed her one of her widest grins. "You?"

Cordelia chuckled. "Something like that."

Misty scooted closer and pressed a chaste kiss to her lips. They were still naked and entangled in each other, but the intimacy of it stayed innocent. The covers fell down a little, as Misty's fingers started making exploring trails up Cordelia's arms, over her chest and rounding on her stomach, keeping a light touch that wasn't meant to entice.

It gave Cordelia time to study her back in the clear light of day. Cordelia knew she had to leave soon, but right now, no force on earth could tear her away from this sight. Misty's hair was impossibly messier and her skin was still sticky around her neck. Her body was lean with muscles. She wasn't as skinny as when she was a kid, but the bones of her hips were sharp and her collarbone stood out as she lay there. Yet the same strength remained in every curve of her being and it never wavered. Cordelia smiled as she remembered the first sign of fright she had found in Misty's eyes the night before. She had never seen Misty scared this way before. The momentary terror she had experienced at various points throughout their childhood was different. Cordelia could never think of a concept that scared Misty, just as everything scared _her_. Until now. What a privilege it was to know, that loving _her_ , making love to her _,_ was the only thing that had ever frightened the fearless wild child.

And she had gotten over the latter quickly enough.

Cordelia asked her: "Did you ever consider finding someone, other than me?"

"No." Misty said it with an absolute lack of hesitation. It was touching in a way Cordelia couldn't begin to describe to herself, but at the same time it made her sad.

"But Misty, what if you had never found me again? You would have missed out on so much."

Misty smiled in a way that made her seem suddenly older. Her hand stopped its trail and spread out flat over Cordelia's chest as if to cradle her heart. "You know, I didn't grow up thinkin' I was worth a damn to people", Misty said. "I grew up thinkin' I was worth somethin' to you."

"You were. You _are_. You're worth everything to me."


	20. Chapter 20

Misty stood ready by the door, watching them enter the clearing. She rarely saw Cordelia arrive, as she usually just waited for the knock on the door, the knock Cordelia still insisted on. It was one thing witnessing Cordelia appear in the clearing by herself, but something else completely when she was surrounded by a horde of little children.

She looked so happy. Misty always knew she liked children, but seeing her like this, guiding and managing fifteen kids, truly showed how much she adored them. And she was good at it too. That helper girl, Zoe, was only there for show. She walked in the back, holding a girl's hand as they tread forward. She had long blonde hair like Cordelia, but not the same golden shade and she was a little shorter. She wore a large black hat, which made her seem older than she probably was. She smiled at the kid and bend down to talk to her.

"Hey there", Misty said to Cordelia when they were close enough. She couldn't help the grin. The pull towards her was immense today. It had been stronger ever since their first night together, but something about the joy that radiated from her made it almost irresistible. Misty knew the code, however, and she accepted the hug instead of a kiss. It was just as loaded with emotion so she didn't really mind.

"Thank you for doing this", Cordelia whispered in her ear. Misty wanted to say so many things, but she bit her tongue and smiled instead. Cordelia turned to the lot. "Everyone, this is my friend Misty."

"Hi Misty", they chimed in unison. Misty couldn't help her laughter.

"Hey y'all, nice to meet you."

Zoe stepped forward and offered Misty her hand. She was only a couple years younger than Misty herself, but the span seemed greater. Or maybe she was just different. Misty never could fit herself with the few of her own age she had met when in town. She always felt different. "Hi, I'm Zoe", the girl said.

"I'm Misty. Hey."

"I love your cottage! It's such an awesome space you have here!" She had a friendly face, Misty noticed, and big eyes, which wandered over the clearing with an expression of quiet wonder. Misty decided she liked her.

"Thanks", she said. She turned to Cordelia then. "How'd you wanna do this, Delia?"

"Oh I thought we'd take a quick look around and then I'll hold a tiny lecture – it will be tiny, I promise", she added while looking at the kids. " – And then you guys get to eat lunch and take a look around, so long as you stay very close, sound good?"

The kids yelled out a united agreement. Misty snickered and started to see why Cordelia would want one of those for herself. Cordelia caught her eyes: "Is that all okay with you?"

"'Course."

"Good. And your friend?"

"Down by the river." Zoe looked from one to the other, but didn't comment.

Misty took it upon herself to show them the area they were allowed to stay in. It was a small clearing, that didn't stretch far behind her shack, but the kids watched with a fascination that told Misty most of them had never been this deep anyway.

They all gathered in her front yard then, made a small crowd in front of Misty's garden, the one where she kept most of her plants. They stood still, listening to Cordelia's lecture, while Zoe and Misty stayed in the background. They found a sunny spot to stand in and watched the lecture from there.

"She's a really good teacher", Zoe commented.

Misty, who was mostly entranced by Cordelia's voice and the lecture she gave, took a couple of seconds to realize the young girl was talking to her.

"Oh, yeah I know. She taught me to read as a kid."

"That's right, you guys grew up together. She mentioned that. She didn't say that much about you, but she thinks the world of you. I can tell." A smile followed her words, one that was friendly and didn't imply that the girl was digging for answers, merely making conversation.

Misty didn't quite know what to say, that wouldn't give her away. She so rarely talked to people, that even this harmless conversation made her feel awkward.

Zoe saved her by asking another question: "So have you lived out here for long?"

Misty shrugged. "I guess. Some years."

"Does it ever get lonely?"

"Na, I like it just like it is. 'Sides, Delia visits me."

The girl nodded. Then she smiled, gave a nervous chuckle and said: "Can I just say that I admire you a little? For living out here. It's really cool. I wish had so much quiet sometimes. It just gets so loud sometimes, living in the city. Sometimes I think about moving in with my boyfriend, maybe we could get a quieter space. His name's Kyle…" Misty didn't want to zone out, but she couldn't help it; when her gaze fell back on Cordelia, her mind followed. Cordelia asked the crowd questions and tiny hands reached into the air. She smiled at them, encouraged them just as she had Misty, when she had taught her.

Misty listened, too, for what Cordelia said. She had never been to school and this was the closest she would get. She didn't know a lot of the fancy words Cordelia used, but she knew of the plants and their properties and found that she could still keep up.

At one point, their eyes caught each other over the heads of the children and Cordelia's smile grew warmer. Misty would have thought they were so securely rooted with each other by now that the times of butterflies had passed, but in just that moment, Misty felt a flutter in her stomach. It took all she had to keep her cool and stay put.

She felt Zoe's eyes on her, but didn't turn her head. She had only eyes for Cordelia and the way her eyes lit, when she was teaching.

After the lecture, Misty gathered a handful of blankets for them to sit on. The split up in little groups and Cordelia sat down by Misty. A few of the kids joined them, and Zoe sat far away on another blanket, already invested in conversation with a young boy.

"So what do you think of fourth grade biology?" Cordelia asked Misty and handed her a sandwich. At first Misty was too held up by this old routine to answer – Cordelia always used to make them lunch when they were children, but Misty hadn't thought she would do it now – but she gathered herself for the sake of facades.

"Thanks. I thought it was great. You're really smart."

One of those shy smiles, Cordelia always wore whenever Misty complimented her, broke out on her face. "Did I say anything you didn't already know?"

Misty shrugged. "You said a bunch of words I didn't know. Good enough?"

"You talk funny", said one of the kids, a little girl with ruffled, brown hair and glasses. She studied Misty over the edge of her own sandwich.

"Now Trisha, that's not a very nice thing to say. If you want to know something, ask instead", Cordelia chided. She kept her voice soft with only a hint of sternness, but the girl shamefully bowed her head.

"Sorry", she said and dared looking up again. "Why do you talk different?"

"It's okay. It's 'cause I don't come from the same place as you", Misty explained to her.

"Where do you come from?" The boy next to her asked. He had darker skin and big brown eyes, which curiously followed Misty's every move, as if he had never seen anything quite like her before.

"I come from a small town behind the swamps. It's not a nice place, don't go there, okay?"

"Okay", said the boy. "Why is it not a nice place?"

"Um…" She paused. How was she to explain to a little boy that they were religious fanatics, who banned her for witchcraft?

Cordelia saved her: "That's for your history teacher to tell you. Now off you go, if you want to look around before we go home."

The children scattered shortly after, leaving Cordelia and Misty alone in the front yard.

Zoe got up. "I'll watch them", she said and went around the shack.

Suddenly alone, as alone as can be with fifteen children running around the grounds, it felt even harder to keep from physical contact. Cordelia's hand rested on the blanket and her fingers were spread out just inches from Misty's own, but Cordelia had made her promise they would keep their connection to themselves. People would ask questions. Misty didn't really care, but she wouldn't deny Cordelia her secrecy, if that was what she wanted.

"I'm so glad I got to bring them here", she said. "It's been a wonderful day."

Misty was hesitant to look at her. She would be so close and she would have that look on her face, Misty could hear it in her voice.

She finally tore her eyes from the ground and looked up. Oh, there it was. And the urge to lean forward came with it. The restrain she forced on herself made her heart pound.

"You're really good with them. The kids."

Cordelia's eyes flashed with a sense of longing. "I love them. And they're probably as close as I'll ever get."

"Don't say that now. That smart doctor of yours'll figure it all out, you'll see."

Cordelia smiled and her eyes briefly looked to their hands, still grounded on the blanket close to each other. "I love your optimism. I have to go watch the kids for a while." She got up, and her hand graced Misty's before doing so. The butterflies took another twirl.

Misty got up too and took to watching after the children as well, but she stayed by the garden instead of going around the house. That way she could add some distance to the magnetic pull and she could watch the path to the river.

After a moment, she realized the girl with the glasses, Trisha, was watching her from around the corner of the shack.

"Hey there. How long've you been standin' there?"

She came out of the shadows without a word and shuffled around the garden. Misty gave her space and looked away. She didn't know how to get children talking, like Cordelia did.

Soon after, girl pulled at her sleeve. She had a determined look in her eyes.

"Yeah?"

"Mrs. Foxx says you're her old friend…" She paused and shot Misty another look, as if weighing her words. Then a crooked smile came on her lips. "But you're not really her _friend_ , are you?"

Misty twerked her eyebrows and snickered. "Smart kid. But don't tell anyone, okay?"

She nodded and smiled again. She didn't let go of Misty's sleeve, but entangled her fingers in Misty's instead. Misty stared at their hands in wonder, but didn't pull away.

"What was it that one did?" Trisha asked and pointed at a plant in Misty's garden. Misty ended up explaining half her plants again and Trisha commented that she didn't answer like "Mrs. Foxx does it."

"That's 'cause I ain't no teacher."

"But you know things just like a teacher."

Misty didn't know what to say to that. She didn't need to, because it wasn't long before Cordelia called them together and packed up. Zoe gave Misty a polite goodbye and Trisha gave her a hug. Misty laughed with incredulity and ruffled the girl's messy hair a little more. It looked like a brown version of her own.

"Bye, guys", she said to all of them. Cordelia came last and gave her another hug.

"Bye, love", she whispered into her neck. Misty was glad the lot couldn't see her face. Cordelia pulled away with a much more concealed smile. "See you in two days."

They had spread out their time together a little. Now that Cordelia sometimes stayed the night, she had to reduce her visits, or Hank would feel left out. Misty couldn't care less for Hank's feelings on the matter, but she didn't object. She only waved as they left the clearing and waited out, until Nick came back.

He did so not five minutes later. He waddled on slow feet, a strained walk and Misty shot him a concerned look. His movements spoke of pain. She sat down by him to examine his skin. In the valleys of his scales where small pools of blood, some already clotted. Misty put a hand the rips in his dark scales and let the energy surge through her body towards the wounds. The blood would stay, but the source closed in seconds.

"There you go, Nick. Sorry they're so mean to you."

The alligator wiggled into his favorite spot by the garden and stayed still.

O0O

Gavin had wandered through the swamp for days already. She had to be here somewhere. That's what she had foolishly told her dying mama. It was blunt stupidity to give up her location like that. Did she really think no one would come for her?

But of course he would. He planned to hunt her down and free the world of her wickedness, now that he finally understood. He couldn't believe it had taken his father this long to come clean. Nineteen years! That's a long time to hold onto a secret so dark and filthy. It was like carrying around an infested wound. It had eaten at his poor, soft-cored soul. Once mesmerized, always mesmerized. The girl had enchanted him, just as her mama had, from the very day she was born. It was obvious in his voice. So of course he couldn't do it. Of course it wouldn't leave him pure to hunt her down himself. He was the new priest after Gavin's grandfather had passed away. He couldn't have blood on his hands, even if it was the blood of the damned.

So, Gavin took it upon his shoulders to rinse the devil from their land. But despite his determination, he had been searching for almost a week. His supply was slipping up and his patience heading the same way. How well could a witch hide? They said such creatures could only be found, if they wanted to. They could hide in the shadows, turn to clouds of smoke to avoid the eyes of the outsiders.

Gavin wasn't sure he believed those stories though. Had the Day-woman not claimed she was just an unusual girl? Wicked, but a girl nonetheless? She was a container for the devil to inhabit, but she was a solid container. She couldn't just vanish.

Finally, the Lord willed his luck to blossom. Noise had led him to a path. He hid as a flock of little children came by, accompanied by an adult woman and a teenager. He hid in the cover of the trees and listened for the joyous children chatter to subside. As soon as they were out of sight, Gavin snuck in the opposite direction, kept a parallel trail to the path.

It led him to a clearing with a small shack standing in the middle.

And there she was. His heart pounded with sudden sinister excitement. It had to be her. The chaotic hair, the wildness about her. She looked just like her mama had. She stood with her arms crossed, looking towards the path. For a moment, her eyes flickered and he feared she had seen him, but then she turned away.

Gavin adjusted his position as carefully as he could and was now able to watch her as she greeted something. She crouched down and his heart skipped a beat, when he realized she was greeting an alligator. It appeared wounded. Wounded animals were vicious. It puzzled him why it didn't tear her to pieces, but soon enough he realized: She was enchanting it. She did that thing, he had seen her do to Margaret Day, heard that she had done to old Norma's boy. That boy had grown up to be a weird man. He was a quiet as it was, but he shut up like an oyster whenever old maiden Day and her witch child were brought up in conversation.

He could hear that she said something to it. She talked the exact same way he did and he hated it. How could she sound like one of them, when she clearly wasn't? He had to remind himself that the devil was a master in disguise.

He wanted to do it now. He wanted to shove his blade through that deceiving container and be done with it. But he hadn't been prepared for the guardian she kept. And he was weak from the lack of food. He would go into the city and regain his strength while planning his attack. He would need time to figure out how to get around her enslaved beast and get directly to her. He wouldn't return to his hometown, before he could bring good news with him. And maybe her head.

O0O

The children's chatter brought them all the way back to the school. Cordelia felt lighthearted in a way she rarely did. Bringing the kids to Misty had been every bit as rewarding an experience as she could have hoped for. It felt like a circle coming to a perfect close. At the same time she felt silly, because there was something about being so close to Misty without being allowed to touch her, forbidden to act on these twirling emotions, that was oddly arousing. It made her feel like a rebel teenager. She regretted having to wait two full days to see her again.

Hank had started making complaints. He didn't know anything, she was sure, but he had commented on how little she was home. He was going through a rough patch at work, being punished for a minor mistake and it took its toll on him. She wanted to be there for him. He might not always know how to handle her moods, but he was always there the best he could. She wanted to return that comfort. And frankly, now that she felt lighter at heart, their time together was lighter too. Hank wasn't afraid to go near her at the moment.

When they reached the school entrance, Cordelia called the children to a circle to say goodbye for the day. The children talked over each other, begging to go again another time.

"It was a really cool trip, Mrs. Foxx."

"Yeah, I wanna go see Misty again!"

"Yes me too!"

Cordelia shushed them with a smile. "I'm glad you enjoyed yourself. I'll see what I can do about it, but for now we're done with ecosystems. I want you all to write me a small paper on a flower from Misty's garden. I'll have them on my desk in a week. Off you go now."

The children said goodbye and scattered. Only Zoe remained.

"It really was a nice day, Mrs. Foxx."

"Please just call me Cordelia, Zoe."

"Cordelia", she nodded. She didn't leave, but fidgeted with her hat. An unknown pressing question lingered in her features.

"Was there anything else?"

Zoe looked startled, appeared to have been lost in forming her own words.

"Oh, um, it was just… Can I ask you a personal question?"

"Sure", Cordelia offered, but cautiously.

"Okay, so I know it's really none of my business, but I was just curious. And it's totally cool and all, but I was wondering, are you and Misty like a thing?" Cordelia froze in shock for a second and missed a few words of Zoe's babbling explanation. "… and I know you guys grew up together and everything, but like with the way you looked at each other, I thought maybe…" Finally, she trailed off.

"Zoe, I'm married", Cordelia said, her voice a little more stiff than she intended.

" _Oh_. Right, yeah I knew that. I-I shouldn't have asked, it just looked…"

"Was there anything else?" She repeated. "Because I have to prepare for tomorrow's classes."

"No, nothing, that was, um, it. But thanks for bringing me. I hope I didn't just ruin my chances at coming with you next time?" The girl looked so panicked that Cordelia forced out a warm smile, just to get her to calm down.

"No, of course not. But perhaps keep your wonderings to yourself from now on?"

Zoe looked beyond relieved.

"Yeah of course, totally. I'll see you around, Mrs.- Cordelia."

"Have a nice day, Zoe."

Cordelia left the fidgeting girl and headed for the teacher's lounge. She hoped to God or whoever, that the young girl hadn't noticed how her heart almost stopped for a moment. She had to conceal her emotions better.

She took a swing by the toilets and locked herself in a stall, until she was certain her face wouldn't betray her.

She couldn't put words to the connection she and Misty had, but she was fully aware that the innocence of it was gone. She couldn't explain this away with semantics. Cordelia suddenly realized the situation she had put herself in. As if the severity of it only dawned her now, triggered by Zoe's innocent question. _Are you and Misty like a thing?_ Were they? It didn't feel like any relationship she had ever had, it needed a name of its own. But they were _something_. Something committed.

She thought of her husband and felt a pang of guilt. Not the first, but the most consuming so far. Hank used to act as if her sapphic tendencies was something to brag about. He thought it was hot that his wife used to make out with girls. She dreaded what he would think of it now.


	21. Chapter 21

**A/N: Merry Christmas everyone! Here's another chapter for you, in case you didn't know what to do with yourselves today. Thank you for reading and comments are as always much appreciated.**

* * *

"Why are you in such a rush?"

Cordelia watched as Fiona hurried to get herself ready for something, which she had deliberately avoided elaborating. It wasn't only her rush that raised Cordelia's suspicion, but sweat on her forehead and the look in her eyes. Her mother may not be fearless the way Misty was, but it was close. This look had a hint of fright.

A thought occurred to her, one that nearly made her laugh: "Don't tell me you have a _date_?"

Fiona finally stopped. She had on both her heels, but the coat lingered in her hands as she shot Cordelia an annoyed glance.

"And why would that be so horrible now? I thought you wanted me out of the house?"

"Sure", Cordelia offered. "I just can't picture it. Did you threaten to poison him, if he didn't show up?"

Fiona scoffed. "Clever. Now leave me alone, will you?"

Cordelia sighed and left the hallway. She went to the living room and sat down as the door slammed. Of course Fiona had a date. What else would she be doing on a Saturday night? Cordelia wasn't blind to the fact that her mother knew how to work her sassy charm on men. She had practiced that in court too, when she couldn't win on facts, Cordelia knew. Another skill of her mother's, which she had failed to inherit.

She pushed it aside. She had many things to worry about, she didn't need her mother to add more to the burden than she already did. Instead she thought of what the doctor had told her yesterday, tried to wrap her head around it. He had seen signs that her condition was getting better. Her cervix was becoming less unfriendly, as he put it. His treatment plan might actually be working. She couldn't help notice the look of astonishment in his eyes, like he couldn't quite believe the results. It made Cordelia think his numbers were some kind of machine error.

"There's still a lot of work to do though", he reminded her. He didn't want her to get her hopes up. He didn't know her well enough to realize that Cordelia had no such habit.

She hadn't told Hank yet. She hadn't even had a chance to tell Misty, which she felt like she had to do first. She felt like perhaps she had something to do with it. Misty was a healer after all. Cordelia didn't know just how Misty's gift worked, but sometimes it felt like she could do anything.

Except fix your head, a callous voice reminded her. Yes, except that.

She went to the window, looked out at the darkening sky and wondered if anything ever could.

Steps on the stairs kept her from taking another ride on this train of thoughts. Hank entered the room.

"Is it true? Did she leave?" Cordelia couldn't help but smile at his hopeful voice.

"Yes, she left. I think she may have a date."

"Fiona? Huh, wouldn't have guessed." He came up behind her. She could feel his breath against her ear. "I don't care though, because you know what? We have the house to ourselves."

Cordelia chuckled and turned her head to look at him. There was a smirk on his face. "It sounds like you plan to take advantage of it."

"Well…" He said, walking around her, so he could face her. His body blocked the dark of the window and filled her entire view. "There are things I don't feel comfortable doing when she's here."

He drew a hand around her waist and pulled her in for a kiss. After four years of marriage, the spark might burn less bright, but it hadn't vanished. And she wouldn't deny the feeling of home and safety that kissing Hank brought out in her. She folded her hands around his neck and coaxed him a little closer.

When he let go, the smile on his face was contagious.

"Hm, I didn't realize you were afraid to kiss me when Fiona's here", she teased. She loved how easy it was to make him feel something. How eager he was to give back and wow visible it was in his entire body. He had always been obvious about these things, always made it clear how much he liked her. Even in the beginning, when she did nothing but tell him that he shouldn't waste his time on her. He never gave up, no matter how distant she became, how dark her thoughts turned. No matter how dull her emotions were or how deep she cut into her own flesh. Others would have run at first sight, but Hank was still here. Terrified or not.

"No…" He said with another smirk. "It's the next step that's the problem. But looks like I'll be thanking some random guy for keeping your mother busy tonight."

"I'm sure she'll write his number down for you", Cordelia said. The answer didn't come in words, but in a kiss, much more forceful than the first. He backed her up against the wall of the large window frame as he went that step further. Cordelia sunk into it at first, but a small sting started growing in her chest and it became increasingly hard to ignore. She never used to notice how rough Hank's skin was. How crude his movements were. His stubbles. He didn't have Misty's delicate touch, her attention to detail and suddenly it felt all wrong. Suddenly it didn't feel like they had been doing this for almost six years in all, suddenly Hank was the intruder.

She broke the kiss and looked out the window into the empty darkness.

"What's wrong, babe?" He sounded cautious. He was used to her mood swings – as much as can be – but it didn't keep him from breaking out in full alert every time she pulled something like this.

Cordelia didn't answer, but fought her inner battle in silence. This was her husband, who she had vowed to love. Whom she _did_ love. She did nothing wrong by letting it show. And he deserved better from her than this constant confusion.

"Look, Cordelia, if you're not up for it, we can just-"

"No." She forced herself to look at him. His eyes sought hers as she did. He looked crestfallen, on the verge of giving up already. Had it really come to this? It wasn't right. "I'm here. I'm up for it." She thought back to their early days, recalled that jolt of electricity she had felt, whenever he looked at her as he did just before. With that in mind she drew out a real smile and pulled him close again. She poured the recycled feeling of all those early moments into it and she tried to take control, the way Misty had taught her. And she tried to keep Misty out of her head while doing it. As breaths grew labored and skin became exposed it started to work and by the time she pulled him towards the couch – Hank was ecstatic over this new style of hers – her feelings felt real again. For a moment, she was consumed.

The joy, however, like many others in her life, was brief. They had barely laid down to rest, their skin damp and their breaths returning to normal, before cruel thoughts started seeping into her skull like a cold wind. She felt wrong. She felt dirty. Right in this moment, she felt unfaithful, because it didn't feel like she was cheating on Hank. Misty wasn't a mistress. She was a lost part of Cordelia's soul, a kindred spirit back for unison. She was Cordelia's very core. On the contrary, it felt like she cheated on Misty with her husband. No matter how good his rough skin felt against hers. And as he lay there on top of her, his warm breath crawling over her chest, she started to acknowledge the mess she was in.

O0O

Misty didn't know the first thing about relationships. She had never been in one that hadn't involved Cordelia, whether it was one of pseudo-siblings, friends or lovers. It all came back to her. Misty had no definitions to work with, nothing. She could only treat it as she did everything else: Go with her gut and try to guess what was supposed to fill the blank spaces.

It wasn't just a physical need their relationship built on. Far from. Some days they spent in silence and complete immobility, lying on Misty's bed or on the grass outside, Cordelia's head resting on Misty's stomach. Occasionally Misty would hum a tune of Fleetwood Mac, but mostly she just lay there, watching the ceiling or the sky while playing with Cordelia's hair, as she had done as a child. This was all she knew. This was how she made herself feel whole.

The waiting was one of the blank spaces. Her time alone had ceased to hold any meaning. And usually the waiting was just until the afternoon came, but lately there would be whole days of it. More days on a string of dull beads. She spent her days looking at her ceiling alone and her shack felt empty. The sky not as blue.

So, she decided, she would have to share. If she couldn't stand being away from Cordelia for that long and she couldn't have her to herself, she would have to meet the husband. She could play the friend, if Cordelia wanted her to. Even though that wasn't what it felt like anymore.

She still knew this route by heart. Even after she left the forest, her feet continued on, as if the road was imprinted into her muscles. She couldn't count the number of times she and Cordelia had walked this road as children. It was, however, the first time she walked it as an adult.

It was dark already. It had taken her all day to build up the nerve to go visit the Goode Mansion. She had almost talked herself out of it a couple of times, but after consulting Nick, she knew she had to go through with it. He reminded her that they were outsiders and they wouldn't be heard unless they did something to make themselves noticed.

Misty wondered what Hank would look like. What was Cordelia's taste in men? This was something she hadn't thought about since she was a teenager and she caught Cordelia staring at couples with longing in her beautiful eyes. Hank had called them weird too, her eyes. It was as if the entire world tried to make her feel like an alien. But Misty was an alien too. They belonged in that sense.

She couldn't put a face to this husband of Cordelia's. The only faces she had to paint from was the men at the bars she had worked at. All rough faces and beards. Cordelia wouldn't want something like that. Would she?

Misty figured she would find out soon enough. The house came into view. It was large after all, three levels if you counted the attic. Enough rooms to house a handful of guests. Fiona hadn't been cheap when she bought it. Misty remembered how Cordelia had said she always felt so small in that house. Now they were only two people in there. It was big enough to swallow them both.

When Misty reached the isle, she stopped. Should she knock? It felt weird. On the other hand, she didn't just want to barge in. Right now, she didn't want to go in at all.

Instead, she decided she would go look at the greenhouse. That had felt like the closest thing to home back then, perhaps apart from Cordelia's bedroom. The dark space underneath her bed had always been soothing to Misty. She walked carefully around the house. She peeked in through the windows as she did.

Movement inside made her stop and back into the shadows. The living room, which she just now passed, was vaguely lit and a body in there moved towards the window, unaware of her presence. Misty suddenly felt like an intruder. Cordelia came into view, walked close to the window. Misty's heart surged. She felt trapped. She hadn't been prepared to feel like this, it was all backwards. She kept back in the shadows and even though she knew Cordelia couldn't see her, she wanted her to. She wanted this feeling to go away again. It felt like sensing danger.

Cordelia appeared to be talking and Hank showed up behind her. At least Misty figured it must be Hank. She couldn't quite see him, only make out the shape of his presence as they talked with words Misty couldn't hear, laughed at things Misty couldn't understand. He walked around her then and into the view of the window. He did have a small beard and he did bear a slight resemblance to some of the people Misty had seen in bars. He didn't notice her either, but stood with his side turned to the window, almost blocking it and facing Cordelia. They stood close, while they talked and Misty wanted to run away. Her heart pounded the wrong way. It was foolish of her to have done this, she knew it now, but she was trapped. Now she prayed they wouldn't see her.

They didn't see a thing. Hank drew closer and he scooped a hand around Cordelia's waist. She smiled at him and it was a real smile, Misty could see that. Not one of those she wore to keep people at bay. He pulled her close and they kissed.

Misty didn't want to see anymore, but her eyes wouldn't close. Her body didn't feel like her own. She watched Cordelia's hands move around his neck as she sometimes did with Misty too.

It felt like some dark, despicable presence had closed its cold hand around her heart and clutched it so tight every beat hurt. She couldn't breathe right. She could only watch the nightmare happen right before her, only see her kissing him back.

They let go of each other and Misty had a weird feeling that for a moment time stood still for her. They said something to each other. Hank looked like a puppet on a string and there was a seductive quality to Cordelia's movements. Misty hadn't seen her act that way before. She was different with him.

The vacuum of time imploded as Hank leaned forward and kissed Cordelia again, harder than before. He pushed her against the wall and Misty felt like the agony was about to burst through her throat. She saw Cordelia grasping at his clothes. The cold hand pushed Misty's heart upwards and the anguish finally made her feet move. She backed away, as slowly as she could bear, out of the shadows of their garden, but they saw nothing. That notion only hurt more. When she reached the street, she ran.

She ran until the forest engulfed her. Only then did she slow to a defeated walk, her chest heaving with suppressed sobs and lack of oxygen. Somewhere in her peripheral vision, she thought she saw something move, but it could be a band of black bears for all she cared. She ignored the presence, she even ignored poor Nick, who waited for her by her door. She went straight into her shack and slammed the door behind her.

Misty rarely cried, but tonight she did. She curled up into a ball on her bed and hugged her pillow to strangle the sobs. When she realized it smelled like Cordelia's hair, she threw it across the room and cried harder. She tried to hug her arms around the hole in her chest, but she couldn't cover it. She couldn't get the image out of her head. Misty didn't know the first thing about relationships. She could only guess that they were not supposed to feel like this.

O0O

"I'm leaving you, mother."

Delphine turned at the sound of her voice. Borquita stood in the doorway of the small rented room. Her eyes were red, her cheeks wet, her attitude broken. She held a bag in her embrace, tight as if Delphine would rip it from her arms the first chance she got. She might have, if she was within reach.

She had been caught getting ready for bed and now she stood there in a nightgown in the tiny room with a sense of dread seeping into her skin.

"What do you mean, child?"

"I mean what I'm saying to you, mother. I can't do this, you…" A sob choked her words and it took her a moment to gather herself. "You killed him! You murdered my husband, can't you see that? I thought you only hated Laveau and that's why you did all those things. But you must hate me too."

"I don't hate you, foolish girl. I love you! But we don't marry that kind. It wasn't real."

"It was real to _me_! So I'm leaving you. I'll go away and I won't even visit my sisters, because I don't want you to find me. I-I wanted to call the police, but… I won't do it. And I won't tell Laveau either, but that's all I can do for you."

She started to turn and the panic rose in Delphine's chest. There was still traces of blood under her nails, but in her mind the vile thing she had found in her daughter's bed was already forgotten. She didn't understand this deep rooted sadness staring back at her with Borquita's eyes.

"Borquita wait!" Delphine stumbled over the chair with her neatly folded clothes, but Borquita's eyes had turned cold amidst all the fiery redness. Her body was closed as she looked down on Delphine, now on her knees in the mess she had made.

"No. You're insane, mother, and I can't have you in my life anymore. Goodbye."

And she left. The doorway gaped empty and Delphine stared at it, desperately hoping this was only one of her daughter's rebellious attempts at getting her way. But she didn't come back and the doorway remained empty.

O0O

Misty couldn't believe herself, when the thought to turn Cordelia away at the door pressed on. In the steps towards the door, she thought about what to say, she even contemplated making up excuses. She also considered flat out telling Cordelia what she had witnessed and how it made her feel.

But when she opened the door and found Cordelia staring at her with that smile and a kind of longing in her eyes, Misty's body betrayed her and her defense crumbled. Cordelia pulled her in for a kiss and at least she could fight for her this way. By proving she could do better than Hank. She didn't want a war, but she certainly couldn't lose it, now that it seemed it had reached her threshold anyway.

Sometimes this was as far as they got, conversation over before it had even started. One of them would push the other towards the bed and leave the rest of the world at the doorstep. Today, Misty was the one to pull away and keep it light. The flames of what used to be desire now ate at her insides and arousal was torture.

"Hey", Cordelia said in a breathless voice. There was a smile in there too and this would have been the perfect time to start a conversation, before anything else got in the way, but that smile ruined her.

"Hey", she just said and tried to smile back. She turned away before Cordelia had a chance to see her fail. "Tea?"

"Sure. I would never turn down a cup of your personal brew." Hearing her speak was almost as painful as kissing her. Misty wondered how she kept it together. Did their half-existence not bother her? Or was she too consumed by darkness to notice another shade of it? Misty wondered too, if this was how Cordelia felt, when her thoughts turned malignant. Like that cold hand around her heart, always squeezing mercilessly, sometimes just a little harder to keep her from getting used to it.

On top of that, Misty felt stupid. She knew that Cordelia still maintained her marriage, but it had existed in some kind of alternate reality outside Misty's tiny world, until the moment she saw it with her own eyes. Now the bliss of denial turned to mock her.

"Are you okay?"

Misty flinched out of her dark thoughts and fumbled with the tea. "Yeah, 'course", she said and hoped her voice didn't sound as shrill as she thought it did. She turned to Cordelia, who sat patiently waiting on her bed, and handed her the cup. "Tell me 'bout your day."

Cordelia did so and now that Misty knew the faces of some of the kids, Cordelia's anecdotes started becoming little movies in her head. She laughed with Cordelia at the right times and even forgot for a moment that she was unhappy.

"How was your day?"

"Aw you know, the usual. Tended to my plants, spent some time with Nick. He's real agitated at the moment, 'cause there's somethin' lurkin' 'round the woods in this area. I can feel it too, it's been here for some days now on and off. Never gettin' close, but I think it scares him."

"What about you?" Cordelia asked. She looked wary. "Are you scared?"

Misty shrugged. "Na, it's probably nothin'. I'm just curious. Maybe it's just a stubborn fox. I keep tellin' Nick it's probably more scared of him anyway." She emptied her cup and put it aside on the table with Cordelia's.

Cordelia looked at her with wonder. "Sometimes I can't believe how brave you are. I would be terrified if I thought something was stalking me out here."

"I didn't say it was stalkin' me."

"But you're making it sound like it is. If you get the slightest feeling that you might be in danger, will you promise me to come by the house? I don't want to think that you're out here, unprotected." Misty's heart suffered another squeeze at the mention of Cordelia's home.

"Don't worry, I've got Nick." She couldn't meet her eyes. Instead she looked down at the bed, watched their fingertips play with each other. They wanted to get closer, they wanted to feel, but Misty couldn't let herself. It didn't feel right, when it hurt like this.

"Misty, please tell me what's bothering you", Cordelia pleaded. Her fingers crawled closer and entwined with Misty's as she watched them.

"I'm fine-"

"No, you're not. Hey." Cordelia placed a hand under her chin and forced Misty gaze up with a delicacy she couldn't resist. Once again Misty felt like this one finger was the only thing holding her up, keeping her from tumbling down in a fatal fall. She finally met Cordelia's eyes. "I can tell", Cordelia said. "This connection, this knowing, it goes both ways."

Misty swallowed once. Her heartbeat sped up, rallied up the pain and the panic of this first march onto the battlefield. She took Cordelia's hand in both her own and lowered it into her lap. Looking at her fine, pale skin, Misty anchored herself and found the courage.

"I don't wanna share you."

She could feel the hand freeze in hers as Cordelia's body turned stiff for a moment. She didn't want to face her again. Misty didn't used to think there was anything that scared her anymore and she had never shied away from any kind of contact with Cordelia, but today she did. Suddenly she was terrified.

"I'm sorry, Misty."

Misty's heart sank. She knew what it meant.

"Do you want me to leave?" Cordelia's voice was paper-thin and it made Misty look up. Her eyes were blank, glimmered with the stage that came before tears, and Misty shook her head.

"No. C'mere." She pulled Cordelia into an embrace and they laid down like that. Cordelia drew a heavy sigh and cradled herself into Misty's arms. At least, Misty thought, when she didn't choose, she couldn't choose wrong.

O0O

Hank jumped up at the sound of the front door opening. Fiona was out again – perhaps meeting with this mysterious man – and with Cordelia visiting Misty, he thought he'd have the house to himself. And in extend the freedom to drown his frustrations in booze. He hadn't been drinking long, the buzz wasn't quite present, but he had planned to get there. Lately, so many things seemed to go wrong. His boss' mention that they might need to let him go, if he didn't up his game – and he couldn't imagine the shame of getting fired from the company his father had once bragged that he would take over – and the dreadful presence of Cordelia's mother and now this Misty-thing. He had starting to suspect this friendship of Cordelia's to be something else. He had nothing to build it on, only her weird mood swings – honestly, she wasn't at the doctor's that often – and this unshakable feeling that she was slipping from his grip. It had been there that night a couple of days ago. She behaved different. It was hot as hell, but suspicious even so.

He shoved the bottle back in his drawer as the steps approached and barely had time to sit up before Cordelia stepped into the room.

She had been crying, that much was obvious. Cordelia crying was not a rare thing, but it still made a knot in his chest tighten every time. She shot a glance at him, crossed her arms and asked:

"Why do you bother hiding your drinking? It's not like I don't know about it." Hank hated it, when she sounded like Fiona, but he didn't say it. He had learned that this was another thing you must never say to women, if you expect to stay on speaking terms.

"You're home early", he said instead. "Everything okay?"

"I'm fine."

"Why do you bother hiding your tears, when you know I can see them?" He asked. For a moment, he thought he had been too daring, but then she chuckled with broken laughter and sniffled. She shrugged and looked at him with eyes that suddenly shone with unconcealed sadness. Knowing he had been granted permission, he rushed up from the desk to put his arms around her. She leaned against his chest and inhaled deep.

"Please don't tell me my mother's here."

"No, she's out again. No need to play tough."

Another broken chuckle. It vibrated against his chest and he hugged her closer.

"What happened with Misty?" He figured it had to be her.

Cordelia sniffled again. "We just had… a fight, I guess."

"I'm sorry. Anything I can do?" She told him no and they stayed still like that. Hank couldn't help trying to guess what the fight had been about. He couldn't even imagine them fighting, not with the way Cordelia talked about her, on the rare occasions that she did. And there it was again. The way she talked about Misty. Like she was the eighth wonder of the world. Hank debated if this was the right time to ask her straight, if something was going on. He had the right to know. Surely, it would be better than being in the dark, having to guess and driving himself to the bottle, because these horrific suspicions were tearing at him.

In the end, he stayed quiet. He couldn't bear the thought of opening a new wound, while she was licking another. But a grim thought occurred to him: Was he standing here consolidating her after a fight with her lover on the side? The thought almost made him pull away and spill his guts. He muscles even flinched, but when Cordelia didn't react to it, the urge dulled again. He wanted to ask, but at the same time, he feared he was not going to like the answer.


	22. Chapter 22

**A/N: Happy New Year's everybody! Here's an update for you :)**

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Delphine stepped onto the pavement with the fury boiling just below the surface of her skin. How they had laughed at her! The whole station, as if she was some madwoman predicting the apocalypse. She should have known it would take more than one convinced soul to make the New Orleans state police believe there was a real witch in their midst.

It wasn't the end though. Delphine was nowhere near ready to give up. She had had some revenge on Laveau, even though it had cost her her daughter. She was not quite done here yet. She wouldn't be before she got the change to nail Madame Marie Laveau to a wall and peel her face off. But that was for another time. Now she looked to her latest employer. And her adopted witch child. They could share a fire in hell.

Delphine walked down the old street again, more cautious this time, so to not run into the daughter. Fiona neither, if she had returned to town already. No, she couldn't be seen by any of those two or her revenge would be rushed. She was never good with rushing. Lurking in the shadows – but with a raised chin and with pride unlike that poor mute – and waiting for an opportunity, savoring the moment, this was what she enjoyed most.

She had only seen one person come and go today and so she knocked on the door.

The husband answered it. How Delphine loved that she didn't have to answer this door anymore.

"Pauline! Hi." He looked at her with surprise. Ever so clueless.

"Hello, my friend. I don't believe I ever caught your name?"

"Oh. Er, my name's Hank. Did you ever get a hold on Fiona? She's back in town." It was obvious in his expression, that Hank did not appreciate this.

Delphine gave him a wide smile and said: "Oh I did. I met her in town. I don't suppose she would tell you this?"

He laughter, a dry one. "No, she wouldn't bother. So I suppose you're the one she's been meeting with?"

Delphine was not sure what to say to this.

"We have only met once. I've been a busy woman, you must know. I'm sure such is the case for Fiona as well." She enjoyed being able to call Fiona by first name, instead of the ever dutiful _Madame_. Fiona was not above her anymore. She lost the right to that, when she had Delphine arrested.

Hank chewed on this for a while, but shrugged his shoulders at last. "Sure she is. But you haven't seen Cordelia yet? I didn't say you were here, because-"

"Oh you just keep that secret for a while longer, my friend. I should have, but mother and daughter do not talk well at the moment, I must guess? If she doesn't know?"

The husband shrugged again. "I'm not sure they ever do. They have a strange relationship, but I guess you know this?"

Delphine nodded. "I'm quite aware. Now Hank, I must confess something to you. I couldn't make Fiona see reason, so I place it upon your shoulders now."

"It sounds serious."

"It is."

"Er okay… Do you wanna come in?" How polite of him. After ten minutes of conversation. Delphine could picture how Fiona must loathe this man and his missing manners. Oddly enough, that was always so important to her, despite her own lack of such.

Delphine shook her head. "No, I must be on my way soon. But it's about Misty."

At this Hank's expression changed completely, grew darker somehow. Delphine had a sense this was a sensitive topic.

"What about her?"

"Hm…" Delphine wondered how to begin. She loved that the curiosity in his eyes gathered strength with every second she waited. It was a vague emotion compared to the fright in the eyes of a vile thing, when she neared with the blade, but she appreciated it anyway. "I assume Cordelia has talked about her, yes?" Hank gave a hesitant nod. "Are you aware of her… powers?"

"What powers?"

"Oh how to put it. I hate to be the one to burden you with this, Hank. They call it healing, but I fear it's much darker than that, when it comes to it."

His eyes widened. "Cordelia's scars…" He mumbled, so low that Delphine thought perhaps she wasn't meant to hear it. She wondered briefly what these scars may be, but focused on the mission at hand.

"It seems you know of this after all?"

"Well, she… Cordelia did mention that Misty healed her – and don't tell her I've said this", his eyes spoke of dread and Delphine promised. "I thought she meant she had some great lotions or massaging skills or something. You know when we say someone have healing hands. Like it's just an expression, but maybe..."

"This is not I assure you."

Hank ran a hand through his hair and shifted his wait, as if suddenly uncomfortable in his own skin.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Of course, dear friend", Delphine offered.

Hank hesitated. There was a clear internal struggle happening right behind his eyes the moment, before they found hers again.

"Do you know, Cordelia and Misty, were they ever… more than friends?"

Delphine had never fully developed this train of thought before Hank's words blew life to it. But she thought back and she remembered seeing something that further enhanced her disgust with the messy savage child. The way she looked at Miss Cordelia. Delphine had seen it many times towards the end of her servitude. These looks of longing and adoration, looks that were not meant for another girl, let alone your sister. It was unnatural. It was a vile as the black ones. All the more reason to kill her.

And Delphine sensed she had found an ally in this particular matter. She put on her most convincing face and painted it with soft strokes of sympathy for good measure.

"Oh my dear boy, they were _much_ more than friends."

O0O

"Tell me to stop", Misty whispered in her ear. Her breath warmed Cordelia's skin. Her fingers played with the edges of Cordelia's shirt and sometimes she could feel them against the skin of her stomach, where buttons had come undone. Cordelia sighed, closed her eyes. She wished the dark could swallow up the world the way it did the light. She wished that closing her eyes could wipe all her problems away, the shame and the guilt too. Just let them all vanish in the dark and float way.

"Tell me you don't want this." Warm lips on her throat. The heat followed her bloodstream from the point of contact and out to the rest of her body. She opened her eyes again and her problems weren't gone. She could still see the ceiling of Misty's shack. She could still hear a lone bird sing to the late autumn night and she could still feel the metal on her finger. Her problems were still latched to her body and the biggest dilemma of them all had taken it upon herself to beg for relief. They both knew it was empty prayers. She said it to make Cordelia choose. And Cordelia didn't know how. Instead, she let her hand slide up the back of the thigh placed between her own and Misty exhaled a trembling breath against her neck.

Unruly curls came into her view and soon after Misty's sad gaze. Misty had always been so untroubled, but lately this was her every expression. It tormented Cordelia. Everything did. Her wedding ring, her lack of ability to say no when it was essential months ago. The way she deceived Hank. Her mother too. Most of all it tormented her that Misty took it so much harder than herself. And Cordelia was the unfaithful one. She puzzled over why it suddenly plagued Misty so. Was there some trigger, she had missed, or was Misty just reacting to the battle she sensed in Cordelia herself? She would be the sort to do that. But either way, the trigger didn't matter, because elucidating it wouldn't ease the guilt or fix the problem.

"Tell me we ain't gonna do it like this no more." This time she hovered and waited for an answer.

"You know I can't just do that."

The hand disappeared from Cordelia's stomach and Misty sat up.

"Delia, I don't know how much longer I can stand this." Cordelia forced herself to turn her head and look up at her. Misty stared into space with that sad, plagued expression, hands gathered in her lap. They looked so lonely. Cordelia sat up and placed her hand on Misty's arm. She didn't move it. Cordelia could spend eternity studying Misty's skin. It was rougher than her own, but still so soft and so perfect it made Hank's skin seem crude and dingy.

"I don't know what to do. I could never give you up, but how am I supposed to throw away a whole marriage?" Misty didn't meet her gaze, her hands didn't move to cuddle around Cordelia's like they always did and Cordelia found herself battling the tears that stung in her throat and blurred her vision. "He's so brittle at the moment as it is. They're threatening to fire him and his father is over him like a hawk, a feeling I only know too well. And I'm supposed to add this to his load? It will break him."

"This'll break _me_."

"Misty…" Her chest tightened at the sight of Misty's unhappy eyes. She reached for her face, but Misty caught her hand and brought it to her lap with the other. Somehow it still looked so lonely. "You were always the strong one. Please be that in this too. And don't take my mistakes upon yourself, you're not doing anything wrong."

"But as long as you're with him, we'll never be real", she argued. "I feel like I only live for the days you're here, the rest is just… waitin'. And knowin' you're with him. That's what I can't stand."

Cordelia had no good answer. She felt cruel for asking Misty to settle. She felt like the most ungrateful shade of a person for doing this to someone as perfect as Misty, who loved her so unconditionally. She didn't understand how Misty could continue to forgive her for her cruelty, yet Misty did. Cordelia reached up one more time and this time Misty let her. She cupped her face, ran her thumb over her jaw line. Misty closed her eyes and sighed.

"I'm so sorry, Misty. I don't know how to solve this." They leaned in to each other, rested their foreheads together and Cordelia prayed again for darkness to consume the rest of the world. Perhaps just evaporate it like the trail of water on her cheeks. Leave them alone in the dark and take away everything else. But her prayers were never answered.

"You gotta do it, if that's what you decide. You gotta stop it, 'cause I can't." She put her hand on top of Cordelia's, pressed it to her neck. Cordelia could feel the beat of a hectic pulse against her fingers. She thought the speed of her heartbeat meant that Misty feared Cordelia would actually be capable of doing so.

"You know I won't do that", she whispered again. Her own heart beat just as rapidly. The pull was relentless and at this close a distance, it was always too strong to ignore. It was beginning to haunt her. The lightest of sighs eluded from Misty's lips, a faint declaration of defeat, before she leaned in and caught Cordelia's mouth again. Cordelia did nothing to stop her, only gave as received. Soon she pulled her closer. This was another way to communicate the hurt, but it was also the best way to forget. Misty emitted a tormented whimper, pushed Cordelia back down and placed her leg as before. Their breaths rapidly grew short and Misty's hand was back where it had been only minutes prior. As if the conversation hadn't happened. This was their way lately. It didn't make any difference, because words led nowhere. Only Misty's hands knew what they were doing. They moved up, unbuttoning as they went. Their bodies worked separate from their minds, in parallel to thoughts of betrayal and guilt. They warmed up, craved. Cordelia's skin became exposed, but soon covered with Misty's hair and her kisses.

"I can't do without you", Misty muttered as she reached Cordelia's face. Her thigh pressed upwards, one smooth, merciless motion that sent sparks flying through Cordelia's system, igniting everything on their way. She burned for her crimes, but she couldn't bring herself to resent it. She choked down a moan and almost laughed. At what she didn't know. Maybe the absurdity that Misty would think she could ever live without this. They fitted each other like two pieces of a puzzle – how was she supposed to turn away from something like that away? Even if she already had a love and one she thought she could have grown old with.

"And I not without you. Never." She pulled Misty down for a kiss. This was all her mind could bear, focusing on the movements of Misty's lips and the taste of her tongue. Teeth held onto her bottom lip as Misty's skillful hands found their way inside her bra. This wasn't a teasing touch, but one of need, of claiming. There was no room for playfulness, not when the game had turned this serious. Cordelia arched up into the touch, lost herself in the sense of it. She wanted to be thrown off a cliff and she wanted Misty to throw her. She didn't need control today. All she needed was a reason not to leave.

O0O

Cordelia often wore a troubled look, when she came home these days. But tonight she looked broken. This above all settled it for him. Hank didn't want to say what was on his mind. The words were turning dry in his mouth, like a piece of meat he had spent too long trying to chew and now it was impossible to swallow without choking. But when she came in and she hugged him, he couldn't take it anymore. It was all over her and he didn't even need Pauline's words to know it was true. Not that they didn't burn in the back of his mind, when he smelled her skin. He knew the smell of her skin well at this point and he was done denying the change.

"I can smell her on you", he mumbled against her hair.

"Excuse me?"

Her voice, that sweetness of it, only infuriated her more. He pushed her away.

"I can fucking smell her on your _skin_!" He almost yelled the words at her.

Her eyes widened with shock, her hands held up as if to guard herself from his words. He could no longer control the flow.

"Well? Tell me I'm imagining it! Tell me you're not fucking Misty on the side!"

Her petite body flinched at every word and tears welled up in her eyes.

"Hank…" She whispered it. And he knew. The rest was only torture to make sure the message sunk in.

"I want to hear you say it."

She closed her eyes, but Hank didn't let her disappear this time. He caught her upper arm, pulled her close to his face so he couldn't miss it. She looked miserable, but not half as much as he felt.

"Hank, I'm so sorry. I don't know what we are, but…"

"But you did fuck her?"

Her voice was barely a whisper: "Yes."

Hank hadn't realized how much a single word could hurt until she said it. It felt like having his insides ripped out in a single stroke. He thought that if he looked down now, there would be a pool of blood at his feet, the remainders of his guts swimming in it. He hated her in that moment. He hated her, but he loved her and he wanted to not touch her anymore, but he was afraid that once he let go, she would stop being his.

"How could you do this to me?" He choked out with the bloody remains of his throat and lungs. All his muscles tightened as he cried out this one thing, he needed to know.

Cordelia only stared at him, at loss for words, her tear soaked face twisted in a pain he didn't think she deserved to feel.

" _Tell_ me", he hissed.

"Hank let go please, it hurts."

"HOW COULD YOU?!"

"Ow, you're hurting me!"

With a furious groan, he shoved her arm away, so hard she had to back a few steps to regain her balance. The back of the old armchair prevented her from going any further, and she put a hand on it for support. She cried and rubbed the arm that had been his only anchor to her. Now it was gone.

"Well you hurt me first", he said. His voice mellowed out. He wanted to yell more, but the words cut his throat so much he could barely manage a mutter.

Cordelia looked desperate. She took a step towards him, but changed her mind in the process. She went to sit on the couch instead. For a moment, she hid her face in her hands. It was at times like these Hank would go sit beside her and comfort her, but today he held his stand. He tried to enjoy her pain and failed miserably.

Finally, she looked up at him. He always thought she had weird eyes. Now he wanted to think it was too weird to make her beautiful, but he couldn't do this. He couldn't comfort himself with her flaws and he couldn't hate her. He wanted to throw himself at her feet and beg her not to leave him, but he stayed put, trembling in his lonely spot.

"I don't know how it happened", she cried. "I didn't mean for it to be like this, I just…" She stopped, swallowed once to regain control over her voice. "It just did. I never wanted to hurt you or be cruel to you in any way. I tried not to, but we have so much history-"

"Yeah and you kept that from me too! I had to find it out from Fiona's friend! Did you honestly think you could hide it forever? Do you think I'm that stupid?"

"No Hank, I don't! Wait, _who_ told you?" Suddenly she looked confused, as if she for a moment forgot that they were fighting.

"Pauline! What does it matter? You should have told me, Cordelia! No, actually you shouldn't have done it at all. Am I not enough for you? Is that it? What makes her better than me?"

"Please don't do this", she whispered.

"Are you just _gay_ now? Have you been playing me this whole time? Is that why you're always so cold?" A million questions formed in his head and he shot them out at her as they spawned, throwing them at her like rocks and she crumbled under the attack.

"No I haven't, I promise. I love you-"

"Don't say it!" He bellowed. "You don't get to treat me like this and still say that! Do you know what she is? She's dangerous! Pauline told me that too. She's a real witch, isn't she? She's not just good with her hands, although I bet she _fucking_ is! And you didn't tell me that either. You didn't tell me fucking _shit_ , you just left me to my own devices, while you were out having fun with- _fuck_!" The picture of them emerged. He had never even met Misty and he had no idea what she looked like, but trying to imagine Cordelia being naked and vulnerable with someone else, like she was with him, was enough to slay his words. It might have been a fun thing to imagine once, but not now. Never again.

There was a short pause, in which the only thing saving him from silence was the sound of Cordelia's tears and steps on the staircase, which had yet to fully enter his consciousness.

"I should just tell everybody what she is, shouldn't I?"

"No please!" She got up again and reached out her hands for him, but he pushed them away. One more touch and he would lose it. "Don't take it out on her, I'm the one you're mad at."

"How dare you defend her?" He spat. "How dare you take her side? I'm your husband!" He stopped for a moment, scoffed. "If I'm even that anymore."

He could see the words getting stuck in her throat. New tears came and fell. She wanted to say something, but just then, Fiona walked into the room. Her expression told him that she was aware of the atmosphere even before she saw their faces and he hated her with every part of his broken body for not having the curtesy to leave them alone.

"What's going on here? Some of us are trying to sleep." Her voice was cautious underneath the ever-condescending tone. She looked at Cordelia, not him.

"None of your damn business!" He yelled at her. She jumped and her eyes narrowed when she looked at him.

"Don't take that tone with me, boy."

Hank groaned and turned to leave. He couldn't stand being in the room another fucking second. The walls were bursting with his despair and he longed to go drown in a bottle somewhere.

"Hank, please don't go- Where are you going?" Cordelia called after him, but he didn't answer. He couldn't even look at her anymore.


	23. Chapter 23

**A/N: I just wanted to say thanks again for reading and showing me such lovely support. Have also gotten some very interesting comments, which really got me thinking, so thank you for that too ;) Anyway, here's the next in line:**

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The sound of the door slamming vibrated through her in violent waves and the silence that followed only seemed only to enhance the sense of invisible pain. Cordelia exclaimed a mix between a cry and a moan and fell back onto the couch. She buried her head in her hands and wished once again that the whole world would just go away. Beneath her, a black hole threatened to open. The churning in her stomach was the sensation of herself beginning to fall.

"You want to tell me what that was all about?" Fiona's voice came from somewhere far away, too sharp for her hurting ears to take.

She didn't. But on the other hand she did, because who else did she have to turn to now?

"Because it didn't look like your everyday squabble to me. Dare I hope you've finally asked the fox to run home to his cave?"

Cordelia didn't answer. She didn't look up either to see the gloat, she knew she would find in her mother's eyes. How could she have let it come to this? What she had done was awful as it was, but to let him find out that way. She hadn't even had the decency to tell him herself. And though she may have tried, she couldn't convince herself that it was what she had come home to do. She had been content with deceiving him for a little while longer, just another moment to hold on to both. She didn't deserve either.

"Does Hank know about Misty's ability? I assume it was about her, Lord knows her and those little beasts at school is all you ever talk about-"

"Could you just shut up and be a mother for five minutes?" Cordelia snapped. When she uncovered her face, Fiona was looking at her with shock. She sat down in the armchair.

"Certainly."

Suddenly Cordelia's heart began beating with anxiety. She took a moment to dry her eyes, hoping to stretch the minutes on. How on earth was she going to explain this? The bare thought of revealing this truth left her terrified. It wasn't as though she was coming out; she had done so already. Only it felt like it, because Misty was such a special case. She had been so thoroughly weaved into both their lives that introducing her like this was like making her a stranger again. Or making herself a stranger.

"Well?" Fiona raised an eyebrow. "Do you expect me to guess?"

Cordelia shook her head and tried to gather her courage. "No, trust me, you'll never guess this one."

"Now I'm curious."

Cordelia closed her eyes for a moment, prayed for strength and willed herself to speak, when she opened them again.

"The fight was about Misty, yes. You see, Misty and I, we… things have been different in some way since we met each other again. Our relationship has become somewhat… romantic."

She almost couldn't make herself hold her mother's gaze. She could see the change happen in her eyes as the news sunk in. Then:

" _Oh_. Oh that's rich! Ha!" Fiona clapped her hands together and flashed Cordelia a smile, she couldn't quite interpret. "I guess I should have seen it coming. You two always stuck to each other. Joined at the hip like some Siamese freak show." She scoffed. "And Myrtle knew it too."

"Auntie Myrtle? What do you mean?"

"Oh don't ask me how, but she knew." Fiona looked to the sky, as if asking her sister just that question. She shook her head, as she returned to the room. "She started dropping me hints around the time you were eleven. I told her she was out of her mind. She might have been, but I suppose she had this one right, huh?"

Cordelia was for a moment consumed by this thought. And she thought of what Misty had said about that night with the party. Maybe this had been in the cards for years before she had even given it thought.

"Did she approve?" Cordelia asked. She hoped for a simple yes, but Fiona waved her off with impatience.

"Don't be stupid, child, of course she did. She adored you. You could have married a goat and she would still think you walked on water. Although I suppose the marriage wasn't far off…"

"Do _you_ approve?" The question was out of her mouth, before she could stop it. Even Fiona halted and looked at her with surprise.

"Why does it matter what I think?"

"It does."

Fiona leaned back into the chair and gazed at her for what felt like an eternity. As if she was taking her time to weigh out the pros and cons and Cordelia was about to beg her to say something, when her expression softened and she broke the silence with a question:

"Does she do a better job at keeping you happy than your Neanderthal of a husband?"

"Don't call him that."

"Does she?"

Cordelia had not been expecting this angle. At last, she nodded.

"Well, that settles it, doesn't it?"

"But…" They had talked their way in a full circle and arrived at throbbing, agonizing core of the issue. "I _cheated_ on him. I've deceived him for months. He never deserved that. He has always been good to me, the best way he could. But the worst of it all, what hurts me the most is that I'm hurting Misty too. She doesn't deserve what I've dragged her into either. I shouldn't have let any of this happen, but I can't be without her, mom. What do I do?" She felt the tears rolling out a second time and she tried in vain to stop them all. She kept wiping her face, until Fiona stopped her.

"You have an enormous heart, Cordelia. I don't know where you got that from, certainly not from me. And your father didn't have your conscience either. Now, I don't think that boy deserves you, never have, but you can't let me make this choice for you, darling. Clean up your own mess, and I'll live with however you do it."

Fiona got up then, went to the kitchen and came back with a pack of tissues.

"Here."

"Thanks."

Cordelia dried her face and tried to ascertain what solution might emerge from the deepest talk she and her mother had had in years. Though nothing presented itself, she still somehow felt a little better. The hole beneath her closed up for now and she relaxed into a new mindset, one determined to find a solution. In the temporary ease, thoughts otherwise left alone came to surface.

"Do you have a friend named Pauline?" Cordelia asked. Fiona barely took time to think.

"I don't do friends. Particularly not people who goes by Pauline."

"Hank said you have an old friend of that name."

Fiona shrugged. "Never heard of her."

"She knew about Misty."

Fiona gave her a suspicious look, but Cordelia had no more information to offer. She shrugged it off again and fell into a long silence. Cordelia thought she might be speculating the matter, but she couldn't be sure. Her own head was empty. Determination or not, the shock hadn't quite worn off yet.

They sat in the same muted positions, until the door opened and the cold wind brought reality back in with it. Cordelia recognized Hank's steps within an instant and her stomach churned again. She looked to her mother.

"Can you give us some time alone?"

Fiona said nothing, only nodded and got up. She was out of the door, before Hank entered the room.

O0O

Fiona needed her fix tonight more than ever. She kept thinking of all Myrtle's ridiculous allusions. All the hints and knowing smiles she had given over the years, which Fiona had always brushed off with annoyance. Myrtle always saw the things Fiona couldn't. Fiona hated it, but she knew it was true.

She wondered, briefly, what the atmosphere would taste like when she came home. She would be blissfully numb to it by the time she got home again, but she did wonder. Hank had been crying while he was out. She saw it in his face in those seconds they had passed each other in the hall. The fool really did love her daughter. She knew that too. He had spent months courting her back in college and he had practically torn her front door down to get to Cordelia back, when Myrtle died and Cordelia had to leave campus to tend to her broken mind. It was the deepest hole Fiona had ever seen her daughter fall into. The first clue should have been the temporary shift from antidepressants to antipsychotics, but seeing her sit there… It scared Hank too, more than he wanted to admit, Fiona knew, but he stayed anyway. Maybe he would run this time. This was a different kind of enemy for him, but if she knew Hank right, and she was fairly sure she did, this one was no less terrifying.

The shift from the crowded Boston streets to the more peaceful ones of outer New Orleans was a welcome change, if she had to say it. Putting the noise and the thick air at a distance was good for her, the doctor had said. He had authorized her temporary part time working situation and Fiona was glad he had, with all that happened down here in the southern heat. If Hank planned to divorce Cordelia over this drama, Fiona was glad she was at least here to see it. She had rooted for that day a long time.

What gave her the most peace though, wasn't the change of the colors and the temperature; it was that the shadows didn't creep up so much here. That was, until tonight of course. Now she felt it again; the sense that the shadows took form and watched her. She had thought to mention this to someone, but she never did. The doctor would just tell her that she was tired from the treatments, and Cordelia had other things to worry about. So, she ignored the shadows and continued on into the small streets of New Orleans, hoping it was just a ghost. Maybe the spirit of Myrtle, back to haunt her. She always said she could spent eternity here, if she had had the money to move.

Fiona reached their custom spot. He stood down by the alley, leaning against the wall with the posture of a gentleman. She supposed he was. By his foot stood his saxophone case. Only it had been years since he had played the axe. He had told her that story on one of their first meetings, but she had forgotten half of it. Fiona cared much more for the new content anyway.

He looked up as she came closer. A skew smile played at his lips.

"If it isn't my favorite customer."

"The flattery won't earn you extra."

He chuckled. "I suppose not. But manners never hurt, even in my business. You sound upset today."

"Step in it, why don't you? Now get on with it."

He only smiled. "Always in such a hurry, Fiona. Don't you ever take a minute to chat?"

Fiona scoffed. Chatting would give too much away. She would sooner die than admit that she found his boyish charm alluring. And this was the essence of the dilemma: She might.

"I just need the off-switch, if you don't mind. My daughter already seems to think I'm dating you, let's not feed the fire."

"Would that be so terrible? I wouldn't mind being your off-switch, pretty lady."

Fiona rolled his eyes at him and looked to the side, so the darkness would cover her smile.

"Don't get your hopes up, lover boy. One thing at a time."

He sighed, admitted defeat and bowed down to open the case. From an inner pocket behind his neatly polished saxophone, he drew a bag of snowy powder and placed with in Fiona's hand with delicacy, looking her in the eye as he did. She handed him the money, no smiling back. His hand lingered for a moment before withdrawing with his payment. Fiona stuck the little bag into her purse.

"Who calls himself 'The Axeman' anyway?" She asked him.

"It's an homage to my first love, of course. The sax has always been the best way for me to express myself. But you can call me Cometh, if you'd like."

She scoffed, her mind already in a hurry to leave. To find a place to set off her escape.

"Good night, _Axeman_."

"Good night, Fiona. Until next time." He lifted his hat and smiled. She couldn't help returning the smile this time, before turning on her heel. There was a thought in her head, she couldn't quite kill. One that said she had yet another motivation to seek out Misty. If her body wasn't full of poison disguised as medicine and if a simple walk didn't make her tired, she might explore this train of thought, but life wanted it otherwise. Instead she pushed it away and her mind went back to this afternoon's great revelation. Not that it was so great after all; on the contrary, she felt foolish that she hadn't seen it coming. Misty and Cordelia… She wondered who had initiated the romance. Her first thought was Misty, but she never pushed Cordelia. She was the follower. But did her daughter really own the guts to pull a stunt like this? She would have to ask someday.

Fiona found her usual pub bathroom and made her escape before the thought of her daughter and the swamp witch together became too intrusive.

O0O

While Fiona walked the depths of New Orleans, Cordelia went to the forest. She had left Hank at home, thought it best to give him space to lick the wound she had carved in him. She didn't conceal where she was going, but she promised to keep it sober, until they had come to some sort of solution. He hadn't left her, like she thought he would. Like he should. He stayed, barricaded in their room with silence, but he was there. The least she could do was to keep a certain distance now to preserve the shredded remainders of his pride. She owed him that much.

Misty's expression, when she opened the door, varied a great deal these days. Her face use to always beam with levity, but now more often than not her expression was guarded. Today was one of the days, where the smile came a little slower.

"Hey", Misty said.

No matter how much Cordelia lectured herself on sparing her wounded husband any more pain, the sight of Misty always made her heart beat a little faster. But she would do it right from now on. Her arm still hurt from the panic Hank's hand branded onto her. It had become a faded palette of blue and purple, small markings of fingers in a line down her upper arm.

Cordelia pulled Misty into a tight embrace. And the comforting sense of home that eluded from these touches pulled her from Hank, more by the second. It was hard to let go.

"You okay?" Misty asked, when she did at last. She didn't reach for a kiss, but led Cordelia inside and closed the door. Her voice was full of worry. It sounded like she had a bad premonition.

"I have so much to sort out. I don't know where to begin."

"I'm sorry."

Cordelia shook her head. "It's not your fault. None of it is." She removed her jacket. The sleeves of her t-shirt were too short to conceal all of the bruising, and they spread out with faint colors on her pale skin beneath the edge of her short sleeve. She had thought to cover them up – perhaps it was cruel of her to expose Misty to exactly how bitter this situation had become. But she knew she wouldn't be able to hide it anyway. She could never hide anything from Misty.

Just as she expected, Misty saw it instantly and walked over.

"What happened there?" It was in her voice already, the suspicion. Cordelia touched it absentmindedly.

"It's not so bad, but can you heal it?" Misty nodded and gently pushed Cordelia's hand away. Her fingers brushed over the colored skin twice, before she closed her hands over it and Cordelia felt the familiar warmth seep into her flesh. When the warmth subsided, Misty loosened her grip, but only one hand left her skin. The pain was gone.

"What happened?" She asked again. Her eyes had hardened. The sky became dark in her gaze.

"Please don't overreact; he had every right to be angry. I promise, he only lost his temper for-" She stopped when she saw all the color draining from Misty's face.

"No", she said with a voice of a building thunder. "That's it." Then she turned around on her heel and headed for the door.

"Misty _don't_!" Cordelia grasped for her hand, but Misty tore it free and ripped the door open. Her face was pale and twisted into a mask of a rage, Cordelia had never seen before. She grabbed Misty by the wrist, harder this time, to keep her from getting away. The fury in Misty's eyes scared her.

"Let me _go_! I swear I'm gonna _break_ his hand!"

"Misty please listen!" Cordelia saw no other way but to put herself in the path. She stepped in front of Misty and cupped her face in her hands. With her door blocked, Misty stopped. Cordelia could feel the woman's entire frame trembling and there were tears of rage building in the corners of her eyes. Her breaths came out uneven, barely controlled, but she didn't push Cordelia away. A cold blew around their legs in the open doorway.

"Don't be rash, love. Let me explain."

Misty drew a shaky breath and leaned against her forehead. Gave up. "He can't do that to you." Her voice shook with the same agonized fury that her body did. "Why would he do that?"

"Because he knows. He guessed it yesterday and I told him the rest. That's why he's so hurt he lashed out. It's my fault for not being honest with him. And for treating him like this. He didn't think, but let him have his space. I owe him at least that."

Cordelia felt arms wrap around her waist and pull her close. The warm from Misty's body seeped into her own and thawed her from the cold of the night. Cordelia could hear Misty's breathing return to normal and feel the trembling fade.

"Okay. I'll stay. But he ain't gettin' no space, if he does that again. I won't have it."

Cordelia nodded in agreement and stroked Misty's cheeks with her thumbs. This was the point at which she should let go, out of respect for Hank, but offering Misty comfort was undeniable. She knew what this should tell her.

"So now what?" Misty asked. Cordelia could feel the breaths of these words on her face. Misty's strong hands fisted in her dress and why was she still fighting this?

She loosened her grip and Misty mimicked without protest. They closed the door and sat down on the bed. "Now", Cordelia said. "I have to find a solution in which I hurt all of you the least. I'm not letting you go, Misty. I can't. But I have to figure out how to work that out with Hank. I love him too. You understand?"

To her relief Misty nodded and smiled. It wasn't as bright as when she was truly content, but it told Cordelia everything she needed to know.

"I need to keep things sober between us until then. Can you… Can you just be my best friend for a while?"

Cordelia realized that she was putting all the responsibility onto Misty's shoulders with these words. If Misty decided against it, if she kissed her right now, Cordelia didn't think she'd have it in her to stop it.

Then Misty nodded again.

"Okay."

Cordelia was so relieved she smiled, despite herself. She took Misty's hand and held it in her own, watched their fingers entwine. She might be crossing the line again, but honestly, despite all her promises, she wasn't entirely sure where it went.

"I told Fiona too... And she told me that Myrtle knew this would happen. You and I, I mean. She was special like that. Fiona didn't believe her then, but I suppose she has to now."

"What'd Fiona say?" Misty asked. The curiosity in her voice was just that. Cordelia knew that Fiona's opinion wouldn't change Misty's thoughts one bit. But the mention of Myrtle had cheered her up a bit, Cordelia could hear it in her voice. When she looked up, she found that some of the light had come back to Misty's face.

"She asked if you were better at keeping me happy than Hank is."

The rest of the world started to fade into oblivion again. Cordelia felt it float away at the end of her own sentence. Left was only the gaze which held hers and though the light remained, there was a gravity to Misty's stare.

"Am I?"

It was strange how her pulse reacted to such a simple question, but it was only because deep down Cordelia accepted the weight of her gesture, when she nodded.

"Your eyes don't say 'friend' right now, Delia."

It felt like her heart skipped a beat.

"I know."


	24. Chapter 24

The light was still on in the shack. The alligator was gone for once, but he couldn't make a move now. Not when she had company. She looked to be one of those women who had accompanied the children, back when he had finally found this place. He could probably handle it, but the thought of hurting an innocent woman, even one that associated with this witch, was appalling. It was not God's will for her to die. He could only hope the divine forces would find some way to strike down upon her for her ignorance. Either way, it was not his job.

He had found a good spot, one where he couldn't be seen from the road or the shack. Sometimes he thought she had seen him or at least heard him. She knew how to read nature, he was aware of that. He had seen her talking to plants and whatnot in the brief time she lived at home. It baffled him that the others couldn't see just how mad she was.

Finally, movement. The guest was returning home. They appeared in the doorway. He hadn't see them closely when this other woman arrived, because she had entered before Misty could show her face. Now he could see them both. And he stared. Because he had not been prepared for this.

They didn't commit any physical act of wrong, but the way they held each other, the way they leaned into each other's faces, there might as well had been those forbidden touches. It couldn't be any more obvious. Misty touched the other woman's face, tugged her hair behind her ear and Gavin had to look away. If he saw more of this abomination, he wasn't sure he could keep from bursting out of his cover and run forth to cut both these wenches down. Was nothing sacred in this Godforsaken place behind the trees?

When he dared peeking, the woman was leaving. She's an innocent, he reminded himself. Enchanted. She couldn't be held responsible for dancing to the flute of the devil.

Gavin glared at the witch left at her door. There was truly not a shred of humanity in her. She might be in touch with nature, but she was the greatest sin against it. He remembered how some of the boys in town, who didn't know what she was, tried to impress her. Tried to get their way with her. To no avail of course and now he understood why. She could not feel natural love. Of course she couldn't. There was nothing natural about the devil. This demon descend was no different. She lived only to corrupt pure souls in the most despicable ways. She had even gotten to him, filled his own blood with filth, before he was even born.

He hated her. With all the white-hot fury of a roaring fire, he hated her. He hated that he saw some of his own features in her face. That they shared blood. His half-sister. He almost hated his father for bringing this upon him. They should have cut Margaret Day's throat the day she had fallen pregnant. Even if it meant his father might have gotten the knife too and Gavin himself would never have been born, they should have done it!

He remembered there had been a torn atmosphere the day Margaret Day returned with her witch child. She was a teenager by then, just a skinny, but taller. Fiercer. Wilder. Her eyes shone with a sinister power. It was clear to everyone that she had conquered something in those woods. Some didn't even remember her, because the years had changed her so much, if you overlook the hair. Those who did were either too awed by her survival or too scared for the same reason to bother her. Some even liked Margaret in her frail days and payed a few visits. She didn't yell as much and somehow that was rewarded with company. Gavin always stayed as far away as possible, but he caught glimpses of Misty once in a while. She spent most of her time trying to force her own wickedness into her mother, making pacts with the devil to lift her from the disease, which had fallen upon Margaret for her atrocity. The little witch never knew who he was, he made sure. She didn't talk to his father either. That was the deal. He was the priest now. He shouldn't endure the presence of evil. It was bad enough that he had allowed it back in his town. He had a soft spot for this one and it wasn't until a few weeks ago, where he finally confessed the truth, Gavin understood why.

The light went off in the shack. This was his chance.

Silent, like a shapeless shadow, he snuck through the woods towards the door. He could feel the thrill flow through his body with the adrenaline. As soon as he sunk the blade into her body, he would be free of this suffocation. He would no longer be related to this container of evil. He wondered, in his approach, what it would look like, when he killed her. He imagined she would bleed. Her form was human after all. Perhaps her blood would be black. That seemed fitting. Perhaps her eyes would go white or red and he would feel a sense of cold as the demon descended back to the flames of hell. Maybe not cold, maybe a burn in his feet instead. It didn't matter. He would know soon enough.

A sudden fast ruffling through the grass made his heart leap into his chest. When he saw it, he only had a second left to react. The alligator came running towards him, dead eyes of an ancient predator zoned in on him and tail swinging like a weapon behind it. He didn't think. He turned and ran.

His heel kicked its deadly jaws once and he sped up. He rushed back into the cover of the forest and climbed the first tree that welcomed him. Safe on a branch, he hugged his arms around the tree, his heart pounding painful pulses through his system. He dared looking down.

The alligator was moving back towards the shack. It laid down by the garden, close to the front door. He felt like it was still watching him. Did alligators even behave like that? Of course they didn't, he thought, sending out another hateful thought. She had enchanted it. Perhaps her powers stretched further than he had first anticipated. He would have to find a new point of entry now. He started to wish he had just run out and killed Misty along with her bewitched guest, when he had the chance.

O0O

Misty strode up the pavement towards the Goode mansion. The promise to lay off Hank wasn't forgotten, but a night's sleep hadn't eased her mind one bit and she would take it no more. It felt like something was watching her out there and she thought maybe it was just the image of that man's hands bruising Cordelia's arm, which haunted her.

She didn't spare a second thought this time, but went straight for the door. It was unlocked and she shoved it open. It was the strangest feeling, being back here, but she only allowed herself a moment's remembrance, before she moved down the hallway in search for Hank. The cold, white walls and the lack of smell wouldn't get a change to subdue her.

When she barged into the living room, it wasn't Hank she found. It was Fiona. And what she saw made her stop, for a fleeting moment too shocked to go on.

She had never seen Cordelia's mother look this weak.

She sat in an armchair with her side turned to Misty, but she didn't look up. Misty wasn't sure she even noticed her entry. On the table in front of her was a bottle of a whiskey – Misty had seen enough of those by now to recognize the brand – and a half-empty glass. Fiona didn't notice that either. She stared at her own hand, holding an airy lump of blonde hair. Her own.

"You don't realize your own mortality until you're staring into the face of your newborn child", she suddenly said. Her voice was a ghost of the sharp clear one Misty remembered. Her gaze remained on the hair in her hand and Misty wasn't sure, if she was talking to her or herself. Fiona continued in the same hoarse, weak voice: "The balance of nature must prevail. The life you bring to is the reason you must die in the end. That's it. Goddamn balance." A scoff. The first sound Misty could truly allocate to her picture of Fiona. "And they say childbirth is a miracle. It's a death sentence!" At this, she finally looked up. Her face looked decades older and her eyes were wild with frantic fury. They widened, as she seemed to finally realize who was listening to her words. " _You_?"

Misty sensed it in her, the sickness. But if there was ever a time she felt sorry for Fiona Goode, now wasn't it.

"How dare you speak of Cordelia that way?" She snarled. "How dare you sit here feelin' sorry for yourself after all the misery you caused her? You were never there for her when she needed you. You're a horrible mama!"

Fiona's eyes narrowed. A familiar tone of superiority crept into her sneer, when she said: "You've got some nerve, kid. I took you in, put under my roof, fed you and this is the gratitude you show me? Disturbing my peaceful morning by yelling things of which you don't have the first clue?"

"I know nothin'? You treated me like a dog!"

"You never behaved like a goddamn human! You screamed all the time, you ate like a savage and you continuously wet the bed, because you were scared of silly things like cooling fans and nightlights!" She looked like she wanted to say more, but closed her mouth before it could get out. She eyed the handful of hair again and when her gaze found Misty's again, all the fury was gone. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that. It was a different world for you after all. Tell me instead what you're doing here after all this time?"

Misty's teeth were bared in a snarl, but the change in Fiona's voice had softened her urge to attack. She answered, in a calmer voice: "Hank bruised her arm. I came to talk to him."

Fiona laughed, one that was croaked and mocking. "He's not here. Normal people work at these hours, you see. But I don't think you came here to _talk_." Misty snarled at her. It earned her a raised eyebrow. "Glad to hear you're still so well articulated- _Calm_ down, Mowgli, you have my blessing, if you want to knock him out. I heard about your little drama and honestly, you have my vote. I may have stopped you back then, but I won't this time. It was wrong of me and I'm sorry."

Misty found herself at a loss for words. She didn't know what to do with this sudden change of topic. The apologies out of nowhere. It was so odd, seeing Fiona like this. Illness shone from her, her voice was weak with age and whatever hid under her skin, but her words were as sharp as Misty remembered them. Until a second ago.

"Why are you bein' so nice all of a sudden?"

Fiona sighed. It wasn't a sigh of exasperation, one of those she had given Misty all through her childhood, when she thought her nothing but a laughable circus act. This one was full of resignation, something the Fiona Misty knew would sooner die than express.

The stranger in the armchair squished the hair between her fingers and then hid it in her fist. With her free hand, she reached for the glass and emptied it. The metallic _clink_ as she sat it down cut into the silence like a blade.

"Because", Fiona finally said. "I need your help."

Misty crossed her arms. "What makes you think I'm gonna help you?"

Fiona searched her face. "Do you even know what I'm asking of you?"

"You're sick. You want me to make you better."

She could see that Fiona had not been expecting this. Her eyes searched a little deeper and then she shook her head.

"You really are something. You're right. It's liver cancer. Cordelia wasn't wrong; I have been sabotaging my own body. I never cared. But this goddamn thing took me by surprise and I'll be damned if Papa Legba is getting me before I win back my glory. That bastard Foxx hasn't seen the last of me..." She chuckled with humorless laughter. "The doctors keep shoving poison into my veins and telling me it might fix me or it might just kill me more. But what harm would it do you to help me? I could just change doctor if you're afraid they will know about your abilities. I'll shut up forever, but I can't die like this… Your skill hasn't become a limited source now, has it?"

"Not that I know of."

"Then what is the problem?"

Misty took a good look at the stranger in front of her. A bit of the old Fiona stared out from those eyes. The face might have aged, but eyes didn't age the same way. It was the woman of her childhood staring back, demanding her cooperation as if she was still the same old dictator, but the eyes had lost some of their strength. She had no power over Misty. And she knew it. Whatever shred, she might have had of such, disappeared as soon as she handed over the adoption paper.

Misty stared her down with all her distaste centered in her gaze.

"You don't deserve it", Misty said. "You broke your own daughter and I'm glad I wasn't really yours. I spent a year of my life tryna save my real mama, but I wouldn't waste two minutes on you."

Fright blossomed in Fiona's eyes. Misty thought it might have made her feel better to feel above the supreme of the house for once, but it didn't. Still, the unease wasn't enough to change her mind.

"Please, Misty."

"No." Misty turned to leave. There was no reason to be here anymore. Even the urge to twist Hank's arm around until it snapped had seeped out of her, driven away by this new plead in Fiona's voice. It sounded all wrong and she didn't want to be here another second.

"Wait!"

With great reluctance, Misty turned around again. Fiona's gaze were fastened on her and it shone with desperation.

"Please don't tell my daughter", she said. "I don't think she can handle it right now."

Misty knew she was right. She hated the thought of keeping a secret from Cordelia, but she remembered the misery in her eyes, when Misty learned about Myrtle's death. Her fragile soul might just die.

"I won't", Misty promised. "But for her sake. Not for yours."

Then she left.

O0O

Fiona had only moved from the chair once since Misty slammed the door behind her. At first, she was worried she might not be able to keep it together, if she got up. She had taken Misty's compassion for granted. Why exactly she had done so, she couldn't quite remember now. Perhaps it was that every memory she had of Misty was tied to her daughter as well. Misty was the most compassionate soul in the universe, whenever she was with Cordelia. She was always smiling or looking at Cordelia with those big blue eyes full of adoration. Everyone could have been fooled. Fiona had momentarily forgotten how Misty used to snarl at everyone else. Misty was loyal, yes. Fiercely so, but her loyalty had only ever lay with Cordelia.

Fiona never stood a chance at getting her help. And now death felt closer than ever. She could practically hear Papa Legba laughing at her.

This thought was what drove her to get up once. The fear crawled inside her like a suffocating heat and she needed a dash of snow to cleanse her system. A whiff to make her feel alive again. This particular feeling had started to look like a limited source.

Neither of them knew. It suited Fiona just fine that they foolishly believed she went on dates. Cordelia didn't realize it, when Fiona started swapping most her alcohol for cocaine back when they lived in Boston and she didn't need to know now. Let her think Fiona was trading her whisky for a man. She had enough with her sponge of a husband. It seemed she had managed to work Fiona's favorite poisons into the picture of her father, when Cordelia chose her husband.

Fiona leaned back and enjoyed the hours while the effect of the drug peeked. Alcohol were never friends with nausea, but this took the edge off. She just barely found her way back to reality, back in her chair, when Hank came home.

He skulked around the house for a bit, as Fiona descended. Fiona wasn't counting on seeing more than that of him, for which she was grateful. Imagine the rough landing from the flight, with this apprehensive caveman as her only welcome committee. Even so, she noticed his restlessness. As if the house suddenly felt too big for him, now that he knew his wife may not be there to take up half the space after all. Cordelia wasn't with Misty as often after the reveal, Fiona noticed, but she didn't refrain completely. Fiona really hoped Hank pulled himself together soon, linked the dots and got the hell out of her house.

To her surprise, he came into the room and sunk onto the couch instead.

"Christ, you must be desperate for company."

Hank only huffed and helped himself to the bottle he had brought with him. He took a graceless mouthful, chewed it and sunk it, staring right ahead all the while.

"For someone who's been drinking heavily since puberty, you really have no handle on the grace of it."

He huffed again and Fiona started to get annoyed.

"You're too old to mope like that."

He finally looked at her. A certain shadow had crept over his face. It was growing darker every day and Fiona wondered how long he would take it, before he snapped.

"Don't you have a job to go to?"

She did. She had taken the day off. Sadly, her Boston head secretary, Quentin Fleming, had started to notice the amount of sick days she had and now he was in on the secret. As much as she loathed the fact that he knew weakness in her, at least she got to take advantage. She was supposed to fly home a week ago, but she couldn't really bring herself to care. They could go bankrupt without her and Quentin could hold the fort for another few weeks. She would do her work from here. God bless the phone. It spared her the immense displeasure of his company. Quentin was just as nosy as her former secretary, but half as efficient. She almost missed Cecily Pembrooke, that snooping idiot.

Fiona merely shrugged for an answer and shot a glance at the flask.

"You don't even care that she cheated on me, do you? You just want me to give up and leave, don't you?"

"I truly do."

He almost slammed the bottle down on the coffee table with a tremendous clatter.

"Watch my furniture, will you?" Fiona said in a calm voice. The last of the snow dance kept her from getting overly upset about the noise.

"You're a horrible person, you know that, right? _She_ cheated on _me_! I've done nothing but love her and keep her safe the best I could, you _know_ this! Yet, I'm sure you would have gutted me like a fish if it was the other way around!"

"Of course I wouldn't gut you. Apparently, I had maids for that, but you knew that, didn't you? I'm sorry I can't conjure a higher level of passion for your deranged moral code. Why don't you just admit to me, that's how your father got all the intel to smear my reputation? You ran off and told him everything about the little drama as soon as you got it out of Cordelia, did you not?"

His face paled and his eyes grew wild for a second, before he shook his head and took another mouthful.

"I don't know what you're talking about. It was all over the news."

"I know you're an idiot, Hank, but don't take me for the same. I know it was you. So you don't get moody points for complaining about my daughter deceiving you, when you started that game long ago."

"Who says I'm the one who told anyone anything? I've met one of your old friends, she was more than willing to spill about Cordelia's past, so why not yours too?"

There is was again. Fiona recalled Cordelia saying something similar.

"Who is this imaginary friend you're all talking about?"

His eyes narrowed. "Who's playing stupid now? I talked to Pauline. You're really trying to make me believe you don't know her?"

The thoughts kept twirling in her mind. There were no memories to gather from; she had never had a friend of this name. No amount of alcohol or cocaine could erase an entire person. Still, she couldn't grasp how else Hank would know all of this. She had always kept the details tight. She had made sure no one ever asked about Misty after she left. Anyone who might come by the house was forbidden to mention her, because Cordelia flinched at the bare whisper of her. No one else but the habitants of the house would know about the nature of Cordelia and Misty's relationship. Not even she had recognized it fully, how could someone from the outside… Then it hit her. It didn't have to be someone from the outside. She had no control of either former servants' whereabouts, but the one that could talk was running out of sentence. How could she forget?

"This Pauline…" Fiona asked, ignoring his question. He stared at her, clearly annoyed that she had checked out of the conversation in her efforts to remember. "Is she a sour looking old crone with dark hair and a face like a toad?"

Hank eyed her with suspicion. "Yeah I guess... If you're still pretending not to know her, you're not very good at-"

"Oh I know her, you blind moron. She's my old maid, not my friend!"

His eyes widened more and with the uncontrolled beard and the ruffled, unkempt hair he looked more like a wild dog than ever. "You're saying that…"

"I shouldn't have been surprised she conned you. It's been Delphine, filling you with lies. Her sentence must have expired a month or so ago. Ten years she got for that disgusting stunt. And for threatening my daughter. And Misty."

"She told me Misty is dangerous."

Fiona scoffed. She glanced at the bottle, but with Hank's saliva on the edge, she would rather down a flask of drain cleaners and get it over with.

"Lies. She's wild and weird and _awfully_ bothersome, but she's not dangerous."

"She also told me that Cordelia and Misty always were more than friends."

"That one, it seems, is true. I'll give her that." Fiona chuckled, mostly because the look of desperation on Hank's face grew with each second. Fiona wondered where Delphine was now. Probably hiding somewhere in the city. Fiona imagined she would see the bitter, unstable employee again and soon. She would have to keep her eyes open.

"You really don't want me to win this, do you?" Hank finally said. He stared at the bottle while he said it, spoke through his clenched jaw.

Fiona got up. "If you call my daughter 'something to win' again, then maybe I will gut you like a fish. Don't ever think that us sharing the bottle gets you any kind of goodwill from me, boy."

She walked out of the living room then. Watching him suck on that bottle of vodka made her insides cry out for a drink and she thought a little one could hardly make the nausea any worse. And she needed some liquid strength to process the thought of their old maid freely roaming the streets of New Orleans. Fiona imagined she would strike her first.

* * *

 **A/N: I wonder if anyone feels like taking Hank's side yet? The poor guy could use someone in his corner against Fiona at least. Also, I want to apologize in advance for being really late with the next chapter. I have two lovely exams coming up soon, so the writing will be scarce.**


	25. Chapter 25

**A/N: Whew, exams are finally over! Thank you for being patient with me, now let's quickly get on with the story, shall we?**

* * *

"I should go home", Cordelia said. Misty's insides cringed at the words. Two things were true these days: These words always came too soon and they always hurt too much. The word _home_ most of all.

"But you've only been here a couple hours."

The sleepovers had stopped. Not that she was surprised, but it still hurt. They were going backwards. Hank was gaining on the battlefield and she couldn't do anything, because she had promised to _keep it sober_ , as Cordelia had put it. Even though she knew neither of them wanted it.

The tormented look on the other woman's face made Misty want to swallow her words again. Cordelia whispered the apology that had become her answer to almost everything. She rose from the bed and went for her jacket. She fidgeted with it and Misty waited for the words she could see her struggling with.

"I'm still undecided. I'm sorry." She looked up. "Would it be better if I wasn't here in the meantime?"

Misty shook her head and got up to stand beside her. She figured hugs were okay and wrapped her arms around Cordelia's frame. Cordelia didn't object. "It's never better if you ain't here", Misty told her.

A vague smile ghosted across Cordelia's lips before it disappeared. Cordelia leaned forward and rested her head on Misty's shoulder. Misty snuck her arms tighter around her body and coaxed her closer. She felt like a boiling kettle with its lit screwed shut. All her feelings were only getting stronger with each touch, but she wasn't allowed to release what she felt anymore. The simple motion of Cordelia's hand fisting into her dress made her feel like she could burst any minute.

As if sensing just this, Cordelia gently freed herself of Misty's embrace. Their eyes met for a second, but she didn't linger. The lingering was the worst.

"I'll see you in a couple of days", she said with a tired voice.

"Can't you come tomorrow? Now that you can't stay the night anymore?" She felt like a child bargaining for an extra hour of playtime, but she couldn't bring herself to stop.

"I don't know, Misty. It's like a cold war at home and it gets worse every time I'm away."

 _That should tell you something_ , Misty wanted to say, but she didn't. She let her eyes speak instead and Cordelia drew an agonized sigh.

"You're pushing me."

"Sorry. Day after tomorrow?"

Cordelia nodded. Her hand found Misty's and their fingers entwined for a few breathless seconds before they let go. Misty could feel the space around her vibrating with tension just a moment before it died and blew away in the chill of the wind.

Cordelia turned and left. She always looked around for Nick, before she left Misty's doorstep, but Nick was hiding in the bushes halfway down towards the river tonight. It took more than a few human footsteps to disturb him. Misty watched her leave down the path back to the city. She could see the pain lingering in Cordelia's body even from here. The way she hugged her arms around herself to cover the ache in her chest. Misty knew of this feeling.

Only when the figure disappeared in the dark, did Misty turn around. She didn't go inside, but wandered around her garden, gazing at what she could in the dark. She was too upset to sit. Maybe later she would go inside, listen to Stevie and gaze at the ceiling or try to dream herself away. But not yet. The air cooled her down and she needed that.

She heard steps. Misty knew within an instant that it wasn't Cordelia and she spun around to spot the intruder. A figure came walking towards her. It stopped when it caught her staring, but then proceeded to walk into her garden. The light from her shack caught the silhouette and revealed features of a young man. He looked at her with disgust in his eyes.

"You really are as damned as they say", he said with a voice that carried the same accent hers did. Only the loathing was new.

"Who're you?" Misty stood up tall, kept her eyes on the stranger. As her eyes adjusted to him, she thought he looked familiar.

"What has that poor, confused woman done to deserve the curse you've put on her?" The drawl in his voice was thicker than her own, she noticed. He had to be from her home town.

"I haven't cursed no one. Go away."

His eyes flashed in the light. They were the same blue as hers.

"Of course she's cursed", he spat. "No one could love you without bein' under the influence of _somethin'_ , demon."

She ignored his words. "You're the priest's son, ain't you?" The look in his eyes made her want to back away, but she knew the rules of nature. The first to show sign of weakness loses.

He sneered. "I am. I'm here to finish what my father couldn't do and trust me, _witch_ , I've been lookin' forward to it."

"You're crazy", Misty told him. Her lips curled back over her teeth in a snarl.

To her surprise he laughed. Then he drew a knife from his clothes and pointed it at her. It reflected the light from the shack. " _I'm_ crazy? No, witch, I ain't. You must get that from your crazy dead mama, 'cause as far as I know all you got from _my_ father was your looks. I've waited a long time to cut our likeness out of you."

" _What_?" All her thoughts stopped. Misty could barely comprehend what she heard, let alone form a defense.

He saw it and he grinned with taunt.

"That's right, you didn't know. I didn't either until a month ago. But don't think that'll buy you any mercy from me, demon. A bastard child of the devil ain't no family of mine."

"Stop sayin' that! What do you mean? The priest is my father? That means… You're my brother? How come Mama never told me that?" She tried with all her strength to keep the vulnerable shiver out of her voice, but to no use. The shock was too consuming. How could she not have seen it? She had seen this man before. She had never talked to him and his disgusted looks had been one of the reasons she didn't want to stay a second after her mama's death, but family? All this time.

"She never would've. It was one of the conditions for bringin' you home, that no one ever knew. Your weak ol' mama was afraid to say anythin', so she kept her mouth shut. I just thought you should know how much you've infested my life, before I end you."

Misty charged forward with a roar, before she could take a moment to think. It was too much. The sudden attack caused the man to jump backwards and the swing of his little blade only grazed her arm. She barely noticed the pain. Her roar turned to a scream as she pushed him away.

"Get out!" She screamed. But a cloud had fallen over his eyes, a mask of hatred she had seen so many times in her life. He clenched his teeth and lunged at her. The blade missed but he knocked her over and landed on top of her.

"Die _witch_ ", he hissed at her before lunging the knife at her again. She screamed and kicked and knocked the knife out of its course. Instead of penetrating her throat, it jammed into the top of her shoulder and she screamed out in pain.

The next cry came from him. Suddenly he was off in a rush and Misty scrambled into a crouch to locate him. She heard him first, screaming in a frenzy of agony and panic. He was already halfway down the path to the river. At his feet were Nick. The alligator tore at his leg and dragged him across the surface of earth. Where the light shone, she could see the dirt turn dark and wet. She stared at the scene, motionless, and his shrill, panicked voice rang in her ears. He was wailing, begging for her to stop her servant. Nick was no servant, but a word from her might stop him.

Misty said nothing. She watched as the alligator dragged her brother to a violent death feast at the river. She trembled, tears came to her eyes, but she never called to stop it.

O0O

Fuck it all. That's how he wanted to take it. Fuck them both. Leave and never look back. But he couldn't. He didn't really want to either, that was the problem. The agony of the betrayal still ached inside him. It pounded like a second, rotten heart in his chest and it sped up every time he so much as looked at her, but he still couldn't leave her.

They had barely spoken since the confession. They had agreed to stay together at the house until they had sorted things out – Hank didn't remember whose idea it was, he only knew that the part of him that wanted to never look back wasn't dominant enough to make him do it. How could he leave her? It felt like he had spent half his life trying to earn her. In reality it was only six years ago that he started trying, but it felt like a lifetime.

He tried to hold on to the fact that she didn't want to leave either. There was a moment, when they sat down to talk, where he had thought she would move out right then and into Misty's shack here in the woods. He had anticipated those words, but they never came.

Hank couldn't believe this would be the end. It wouldn't be, if he had any say in it. _You're a miserable idiot, Hank_ , he thought at himself. An idiot who couldn't leave his wife, when he had every reason to. His father would never let him hear the end of this. Hank dreaded the look on his face, when he found out. He would soon enough; he always had a talent for that.

Hank marched through the forest. It had to be here somewhere.

He hadn't told Cordelia where he was going. This didn't concern her.

As he marched on, the memories began pressing on. He didn't want them to, but fearing the end of his relationship made him think of the beginning. He had never doubted that she could be trusted. The issue was always the other way around. He had to work for ages just to earn this privilege. Cordelia didn't trust easily, but he did. Fucking irony that was.

When he first started talking to Cordelia, it hadn't taken Hank more than an afternoon to learn that she had been hurt before. By who she wouldn't say, but the cut went deep, no doubt. It lingered in her every movement, evident in the way she carried herself. Like everyone was out to torment her. He saw how she held back, restrained herself, even later on when he knew she wanted to let go. It had been his stupid mission to get some information out of her, but as the stupid cliché of an idiot he was, he had fallen in love with her instead. His own mission had been to get her to open up to him. Not for his father's sake, but for his own. For her own.

And it took months just to get within an arms length of her. It took four fucking dates before she even let him kiss her. He was the joke around his friends all the while for having such a poor grasp on women. And honestly he did, but neither knew how special this one was. She was always ready to push him away, always trying to make him change his mind. It made him want to try harder.

He approached her at a college party one time around their fifth date. This party was the one that stood out most clear in his memory.

"Don't waste your time on me, Hank", she told him then. "I'm in no mood. Just move on please, I'll only bore you."

"All right", Hank remember he said as he sat down beside her. "Try. Bore me. But I don't think you can."

That was the thing about her. She was quiet, she was withdrawn, but she was never boring. She had a way of making everything sound interesting, only she didn't see that herself. He shared his beer with her, coaxed her to talk, and by the time she was pouring out all the secrets about her horror of a maid – the ones Hank's father had ordered him to get – he didn't really care about anything but making her smile. He succeeded occasionally and on this night, he even made her laugh. It made him feel like a fucking hero. On this night, he was the smoothest he had ever been. He inched closer, when he dared, coaxed her hand into his, responded to her words in a way that made her lean into him instead of away. All this without a bucket of alcohol in his system, which was unusual. She didn't scare him like the rest of them did. The fright that pounded within his body was manageable and when he finally kissed her, she didn't pull away. That night she let him sleep beside her, so long as he promised not to push her. He didn't. He knew he was in for a shitload of mockery from the guys for once again avoiding getting laid, but he didn't care, because he got to lie with his arm around her all night.

And now this blessed memory only made him feel stupid.

Even after that, it still took months before he learned the name of the one who had hurt her so badly, she shut the whole world out. He had sometimes dared wishing this childhood friend would come back and undo the damage. Hank barked out a bitter laugh at the thought. He regretted that wish now. He had never thought the day would come, where he would have to ask this person to leave Cordelia alone again.

Finally, he reached the meadow. Cordelia had talked about the path to Misty's shack before it all went to shit and with some effort, he located the source of his pain.

He couldn't see if she was home. The daylight made it impossible to tell, but he'd be damned if he wasn't going to try. It had taken him all week to muster up enough courage to do this and now it was time to get it all out.

He stepped up to the door and knocked.

There was ruffling coming from inside and his rotten heart started pounding again.

The door opened and infamous childhood friend mistress appeared. The first thing he noticed was that hair, Cordelia always talked about. Blonde and wild, just as she had described it. Her blue eyes were locked on his and they had the same sort of wildness in them. The was something else about her, an aura of a power of sorts, which Hank couldn't place.

 _Shit_ , he thought. She's hot.

Gorgeous women scared him. It always felt like they knew some secret about him, or had some cruel inside joke hanging over his head and he felt tongue-tied just looking at them. Cordelia was different, because her massive insecurities made it easy to get through. She didn't have a joke on him and Hank didn't need to tear down that wall hot women raises around themselves, because Cordelia did it all by herself. But this one, her wall was strong like nothing he'd ever experienced and for a moment he didn't know what to say. Her hostile gaze had him petrified.

"Hank", she said. The way she said his name, like a snarl of some animal – there was nothing endearing about her voice to Hank's mind – terrified him even more. How the hell did Cordelia even manage to talk to this woman?

He took in a breath, willed himself to pull his shit together and complete what he had come here to do.

"So you're Misty?" _Of course she is, idiot, how many Cajun's do you think live in a small shack in the swamp?_

He noticed that her hand fisted just before she crossed her arms over her chest and she proceeded to stare him down.

"Yeah. What do you want?"

"What I- I just want you to acknowledge that I exist! That I'm a real person you're hurting!"

For a second her eyes widened and he couldn't tell if it was shock from his sudden outburst or his words themselves. When she answered, her voice was plain, but he could feel the anger simmering beneath it, probably not unlike the way he himself had spoken for the entire week:

"You don't think I know that? I'm painfully aware of you, don't you worry 'bout that."

Hank hadn't exactly pictured a duel, but this trembling calm confused him even more. The realization that he was having a conversation with his wife's mistress, instead of yelling at her and telling her off, infuriated him.

"But you're… Well stop it!"

"It's not up to me."

"You're fucking the love of my life!"

"I'd say the same to you." She left her doorway and walked out to him. She was just as tall as him, maybe even an inch taller. The sunlight made her hair look even crazier. The anger in her gaze and the snarl in her voice made him take an involuntary step back. "And don't think that little piece of metal-", she looked at his hand, "-gives you any kinda claim. It's all up to her."

"I don't want you near her", Hank finally blurted out. He had lost what lilttle authority he came in here with, the moment he took that step back, but he would go down fighting if it came to it. "As far as I'm concerned you had your chance and you blew it. She's _my_ wife!"

"I don't care", Misty snarled. Hank opened and closed his mouth. How was he supposed to argue with this woman? How was he supposed to break down her wall and defeat her, when all he had done so far was making pathetic scratches in the stone? He was still trying to figure out how to respond, when something else caught his attention. To his right, down in the grass a few feet ahead came an alligator. Hank gasped and stepped further back.

Misty simply waved the creature away and said: "It's okay this time, Nick." The alligator stayed back and watched them from afar.

Hank couldn't get a word out. How the _hell_ was he supposed to fight someone, who could give orders to alligators?

Misty turned to him again.

"Don't worry. I told him he couldn't eat you. It would make Delia unhappy." Her tone of voice didn't inspire the least bit of comfort. Her gaze turned dark in a way that frightened Hank much more than he wanted to admit. And what was this nicknaming? Like she was closer to her than he was.

Hank didn't know if he hated her or himself more in that moment. He felt like a coward, because after all his effort to come here and set it right, she had done nothing but shoot him down and he let her.

"I can be good enough for her", he told her. "I can. But you're ruining it for me."

"You've ruined it for yourself from what I hear. Go away now, I don't want you here. There's been enough intruders." She turned to leave, but seemed to change her mind.

"One more thing", she said. The simmer of anger built in her voice. "I saw her arm. If you ever hurt her like that again…" The anger flared up in her eyes like actual fire. "No, I won't feed you to the gators. I swear I'll end you myself."

Hank was frozen. He remembered Delphine's words: She's dangerous. Fiona said it was a lie, a part of her deceit, but he didn't think she would say that, if Misty had ever looked at Fiona this way. Cordelia said she was a healer and that wasn't something to fear, yet he did just that. He wanted to talk, to say anything of defense, but he couldn't get words over his tongue. She didn't wait for him to leave, but turned away from him and walked back to the house.

"You're a freak! You're taking Cordelia because there's no one else for you, how's that fair!"

She stopped. He regretted the words the second they were out. For a moment he was afraid she would turn around and rip his head off with her bare hands, but instead she went back into to the shack and slammed the door – but not before giving the alligator a look. It didn't move, but Hank wasn't about to find out just how far her control over the animal stretched. He backed out. Only when the trees consumed him again, did he dare turn his back and run away.

O0O

Cordelia rushed to get out the door that night. Her head spun with the horrific news Fiona had just told her. She felt vulnerable in an odd way, knowing the old, mad maid was somewhere in town, but while Fiona had ensured her, _she_ was not a target, she was not the least bit comforted. Because she wasn't worried for herself. She didn't care, if she was a on the list or not, but she had a suspicion Misty was and that terrified her. Delphine never liked her.

Hank called her name as she went past the living room. They didn't spent much time in the same room these days. She stopped at the sound and waited for him to come out to her. He looked more tormented than ever today.

"Are you going to the swamp?" They didn't say the name, if they could avoid it. Cordelia refrained out of what little respect she had left to offer and Hank did so, she imagined, because the mere name made him too angry.

"Yes. I need to warn her about Delphine. She might try something. Delphine knows where she lives after all."

Hank nodded. None of them acknowledged that it was because of him she did so. Cordelia imagined, though, that this was the reason he didn't make a bigger fuss. Whatever thin tread of marriage that still held them together, weakened every time she went to Misty, but this felt like a free trip, because she had a concrete purpose for going.

"Cordelia…" He walked closer to her. She didn't move, but waited for whatever he meant to say. He didn't talk at first, but reached out for her, brushed his hands over her upper arms. It was the first time he had touched since he shoved her arm away in anger and the notion made her heart ache. He looked agonized now, but it was a different pain. When he looked up, she saw that it was regret. "I'm sorry I hurt you. Your arm. I shouldn't have done that."

"It's okay, Hank. I know you didn't mean to. You have every right to be angry with me."

"But that's just it. I don't want to be angry anymore. Please Cordelia, can we just find some way to get back to normal?" The tenderness of his voice cut into her. If only he had unleashed some devil at the disclosure of her betrayal, then she could have used it to make her choice. But the only devil Hank had, came from a bottle and he was dry as a bone right now.

She sighed and fought to keep eye contact.

"I'll try." She didn't know if it was a lie or not, but when he pulled her in, she clung to his embrace. Tears blurred her vision and in this moment, she wished for another black hole to disappear into. If only she could hide against Hank's neck and the darkness of her closed eyes could take her with it. But he loosened the embrace again and nothing was solved yet. She blinked her tears away.

"I have to go."

His lips were pressed together in an unreadable expression, but he nodded.

"See you later?" She offered.

"Yeah. See you later."

She walked with heavy feet on the path to Misty's shack. It felt like there was a knot in her chest that constantly tightened and loosened at the same time. The anticipation of seeing Misty always brought shame with it now. She wondered if she would ever be rid of this feeling. The mess just kept growing. Her thighs were wrecked from all the troubles coursing through her mind.

But today was free, she reminded herself.

She knocked on the door and she heard the sound of Misty's chair rushing across the floor. She knew something was out of place even before Misty opened the door.

When they met face to face, the anger in Misty's every feature hit Cordelia so hard she immediately forgot what she came to say.

"What wrong?"

Misty snarled, perhaps not at her, but the knot in her chest tightened even so.

"I'll tell you what's wrong! I'm gettin' 'bout fed up with everythin'!" She went back into the house and Cordelia followed with small insecure steps, closed the door. "Hank came by this mornin'" – a surge of cold rushed through her system – "tryna scare me off, callin' me a freak and last night a half-brother, I didn't know I had, showed up to kill me, so I've had it!"

" _What_?" Misty walked back and forth in her tiny home, her wild eyes flashing and her teeth bared to growl out her frustrations. At Cordelia's reaction, she stopped for a moment and turned to face her. "What half-brother?"

"Some… witch hunter." She flung her arms around. "I don't know. He's the son of the priest. My _father_ is the _priest_! Not the old one, who threw me out first, but the new one. No one ever told me! My mama didn't even dare tellin' me! And suddenly he's here sayin' all kinda horrible things and tryna kill me with a _knife_!" Her voice snapped and it broke Cordelia's heart. She rushed over to Misty and hugged her. Misty drew a violent breath against her shoulder. When she moved, Cordelia loosened her grip and cupped her face in her hands instead.

"Are you okay? Did he hurt you?"

Misty sniffled and blinked to clear the tears from her eyes. "He gave me a little cut, but it's healed up now. Nick saved me, dragged him to the river. I could've stopped him, Delia. He _begged_ me, but I did nothin'. I just let him die. My brother." She sniffled again, but didn't catch the tears in time before they ran down her cheeks. Cordelia fought against her own and pulled Misty to her again.

"You didn't let him die, love. You let Nick save you. I'm so sorry this happened."

She could feel her nod and let go, when Misty signaled to. She dried her eyes with the back of her hand.

"They were supposed to be my family. I'm just so tired of bein' unwanted."

The knot tightened harder in Cordelia's chest. This one was meant for her too.

"Misty, I-"

"If you just told him, he wouldn't have come here." She had her voice under fragile control again and it was growing hard. So was her eyes. "I know you love him, but _you_ know you and I don't work without each other. I'm sorry, but you can't have both."

The hardness made Cordelia feel like she was suffocating. This was a thousand times worse than the rare occasions, where they had fought as children, because every word Misty said was true and yet Cordelia remained frozen.

"I know, Misty, I know. Please give me some time to figure it out."

Misty took a small step back, every inch tightening the knot, smothering Cordelia from within. "You've had weeks now, Delia."

"I _know_ , but I don't know how to do this. I can't just tell him to leave."

" _Why_ can't you tell him?"

"He's my husband! I can't just lose the last six years of my life like that." She knew the moment she said it that it was the worst possible thing to say.

"But your _husband_ can come here and call me all sorta things and that's okay?" The fury rose in her eyes with tears, built in every part of her body. Her eyes darted across the room and her hands fisted as if she was on the verge of throwing something.

"No of course not!" Cordelia felt the tears in her throat now. She could barely breathe. "Of course he can't! But I still don't know what to do. I don't know how to leave people, they always leave _me_! I _love_ you, but I don't know how to do anything about it!"

"And what am I supposed to do with that?!" Misty shouted the words at her.

"I don't fucking know! I don't _know,_ Misty!"

She was prepared for Misty to storm out, to scream at her, to throw something, but she didn't. She growled out her frustration and then she kissed her. It was a rough kiss, forceful and desperate. Misty slammed her against the wall and pinned her to it, grasping for something to hold onto. This kiss felt different. Wrong, forbidden. This was the first kiss that truly, consciously felt like cheating. And Cordelia couldn't stop. She moaned when she felt Misty's body press against her own, every space between them sealed. Misty's hands were always gentle with her, but tonight they held on so tight it almost hurt. The desperation flooded them both as one and Cordelia wondered, if the knot in her chest could tighten and loosen at the same time.

They broke the kiss again and panted into the small space between their mouths, foreheads resting against each other. Cordelia could feel that most of the rage had left Misty by now, but a fraction remained. A fraction of it never left.

When Misty spoke again, there was darkness mixed up in her husky voice.

"Please don't make me fight for you. 'Cause I think I'll kill him."


	26. Chapter 26

Useless, clueless boy. In a moment of naivety, Delphine had trusted Cordelia's dumb husband to carry out her plan and expose Misty for the hellish creature she was. And she had a feeling that whatever was happening between the two women, that Hank was afraid of – she could very well guess the nature – was out of the bag now. His whole face shone with it, when she saw him enter the forest. He didn't see her; he was too preoccupied. She had hoped the rage in his eyes had been enough. But nothing happened.

She sat by the road he had disappeared down, hidden and hoping he would return with an expression of victory. A little blood on his face wouldn't have been too bad either. But no, he came rushing out right past her, running away like a frightened little boy. He would do no good anymore. She would have killed him for his for incompetence, if she had had the time.

Time was not an unlimited resource now, if she wanted to get her revenge. _He_ might not know her real name, but Fiona Goode was no idiot. Narrow minded, ignorant, blissfully so during Delphine's servitude, but not a moron. And she had her ways of manipulating. She would see through this boy and she would be onto Delphine. There was no time to waste anymore. Delphine would have to act herself.

She went back to the little motel room to make sure everything was packed. She couldn't stay here once she had made sure Fiona Goode and her bastard witch had gotten what they deserved. She paid for the week out and stashed her few belongings away. She would start a new life once this was dealt with. Get Borquita back. The girl couldn't be far. She would change her mind. She always did, when she went out on a limb with her rebellion. Delphine would call up her daughters until one of them caved in. She couldn't be gone forever, she couldn't keep punishing Delphine this way. Borquita would learn and she would come back.

With that in mind, Delphine put the worry aside and little by little, the knot in her stomach loosened. It was the anticipation that made it unravel. She had a quest to carry out. It wasn't murder in Delphine's mind, rather it was cleansing and it was settling a debt. One kill would leave the world a little cleaner and the other would leave her soul a little lighter.

Delphine thought she would start with the cleansing. It could serve as a part of her revenge even. She knew that killing Misty would hurt Fiona, however indirect, but Misty wouldn't shed a tear for Fiona. They never liked each other much. Misty also seemed like the easiest one to get rid of, because she was only ever in one place. The swamp. Delphine almost had her once and she failed to split her in half then. Tonight she would not fail.

A smile drew on her face. She could almost taste the long lost feeling of balance and joy at the thought of finally putting down that savage creature. Oh how she had longed to do so. Delphine gripped tight around the knife, which she had stolen from the Goode kitchen. She remembered there was a time, where she hated the sight of these, because they mocked her for being a servant. The day she was arrested, she relieved herself with the thought that at least she would never have to use these utensils again. Now she turned it in her hand and took a moment to appreciate the irony.

Then she headed for the swamp.

O0O

Fiona wasn't sure who were the most pathetic, herself or her daughter.

She had found a clinic in New Orleans to give her the next round of chemotherapy and she could feel the poison eating away at her from the inside out. There was no pain like it. She was a sad case, bending over the toilet and emptying her insides every other morning. The curious thing was, so was Cordelia.

The first morning, she heard her, she figured it was bad food. Hank had cooked the night before, it really shouldn't come as a surprised. It almost made her miss their psychotic old maid. Much could and should be said about the delusional toad, but she could cook a meal.

When it happened again two days after, Fiona grew worried. She didn't ask directly. If she brought it up, Cordelia might start digging into why she was so pale herself all of a sudden and Fiona couldn't have that. Then rather they both stay quiet and mind their own business.

The next morning they sat together, eating and pretending not to notice each other. Hank had left in the dark of the early morning to get his breakfast somewhere else. They changed like pendulum swings, him and Cordelia. One day they talked as if nothing had happened and the next they fought like war had reached their doorstep. Fiona refrained from commenting. She had promised Cordelia, she would live with whatever she did and she intended to keep at least one goddamn promise, she made her daughter.

She just hoped to God, Cordelia wouldn't settle for this one. What kind of imbecile believes a war is won by sneaking out early instead of having breakfast with your wife?

But she didn't comment. She sat there, drinking her tea – which made her think of Myrtle and how _she_ would actually know what to say on a morning like this – when Cordelia threw her fork and ran for the bathroom. The sound was unmistakable. And this time, there was no ignoring it.

Fiona waited a few minutes, to give her time to clean up, before she went for her.

"I suppose I'll have to stop blaming this on the food. What's wrong with you?"

Cordelia eyed her in the mirror before looking down again. "I'm fine, mother", she said while staring at the sink. Fiona continued to look at her bowed head and thought to herself that she had never seen Cordelia react physically to her problems like this. Her mind snapped, when it got bad, sure, but never her body. She had inherited Fiona's way of keeping it all on the inside.

"Do you expect me to believe that? I have ears."

Cordelia sighed and treated Fiona to a loaded silence. She kept the water running for another minute, as if it would drown out Fiona's questions.

"Is it because of Misty? Or Hank, whichever poses the real problem?"

Finally, she turned around. She looked so tired. Fiona knew that look and she secretly started to dread, if this strange love triangle was taking a much bigger toll on Cordelia, than she could handle. Fiona knew what the hole looked like, if Cordelia tumbled and fell, and she prayed she would never have to see her daughter fall down there again.

"Would you just leave me alone, please? I have to get ready for work."

The exhaustion in her voice was what stopped Fiona from insisting. She was afraid to push her. Instead, she watched Cordelia leave not fifteen minutes later and hated herself for being so afraid of her own daughter's demons.

Fiona didn't stay long in the house either. Instead, she wandered around the city. In the daylight, the shadows in the corners were less likely to take shapes, the way she felt they did in Boston. She ate a meal out, she failed to keep it in and when the dark started to creep in over the sky, she made her way to the usual meeting spot.

"Good evening, pretty lady." She found him leaning against the wall in the usual manner and he tipped his hat, when she approached him. The boyish smirk on his face told her that she visited him too often.

"Hello Cometh."

"Are we on first names now? I like that."

"Don't make me regret it. Now fish out a gram, will you?"

He tsk'ed at her and bend down, mumbling about her rush as usual. These visits were becoming a routine for her, yet somehow he always managed to stand a little closer every time he handed her the bag.

"There you go, Fiona. Enjoy." She tried to ignore that the way his hands brushed over hers and the way his eyes lingered on her face had her blood warming to a simmer. She would have to leave, before he learned to read her face.

She handed him the money, before he had another chance to talk, and bid him goodnight. There was no room in her life for something as foolish as romance. If her daughter wasn't a textbook example of just what came out of letting your emotions rule you, she didn't know what was. She hurried out of the alley and strode towards her safe place, when turmoil behind her caught her attention. Then someone called for her.

"Fiona!" It was Cometh's voice and it has lost its airy charm for once. She turned to find him struggling with a thin shape of a person. The shape uttered no word, but fought against Cometh's grip on the scruff of his grubby shirt. His resistance was fruitless. Cometh crossed the street and as he walked closer, Fiona realized who he had caught. The blood turned to ice in her crumbled veins.

"This fellow was following you." His words didn't come quite so easy, even though he had the upper hand. Spalding finally stopped fighting him and stood still in his grasp. He stared at Fiona with adoration. Cometh, on the other hand, looked worried and angry. "Do you know him?"

She gave a stiff nod and looked at Spalding. In all the years he had been the shadow at her heels, she had never gotten a look at him. Now that he was here, caught in the light of a street lamp, she could see what the years had done to him. He was even thinner, his hair more white than grey and his face sunken. She didn't dare guess, what he had lived off all those years. Now she looked straight at him, all her boiled up anxiety turning to anger.

"What is the matter with you, Spalding? Will you _stop_ following me? Christ, why are all my servants insane?"

He looked apologetic, but he didn't stop staring.

"Why can't you just leave me alone, you _insane_ man? And why show up now? The shadows got too crowded for you? What do you want?"

Suddenly he started gesticulating. He pointed everywhere and his scrawny face spoke of urgency. It was absurd to see him fling his arms around like that, but with no noise to accompany it. He looked like an amateur mime. How she hated these guessing games.

"The only one who ever liked your stupid games was Misty, will you-"

Fiona stopped, when the mention of Misty's name threw him into a whole new level of frantic miming.

"This has to do with Misty?" He nodded violently. "Well what about her? Cometh, you can let go."

"Are you sure?"

Fiona nodded. "He's harmless. He's just weird. You could probably snap him like a toothpick, if he tries something. But you won't, will you?" Spalding shook his head. Cometh sighed and let go of his scruff. Spalding took a quick step away from him and rubbed his neck in an almost cartoonish way.

"Now what is it about Misty?" Fiona asked him and Spalding started gesticulating again. Fiona felt like an idiot, standing there, side by side with her cocaine dealer, trying to play along to this toddler's game. Spalding shaped his arms into a large person, he dragged his frail, grey hair up and formed breasts in the air.

"I think we're trying to guess an overweight woman", Cometh offered. Fiona rolled her eyes.

Spalding nodded and went into acting a scenario in which he was tied to something, and cutting into his own skin. Suddenly Fiona understood.

"Are you talking about Delphine?"

"Who?" Cometh asked, but Fiona ignored him, because Spalding now nodded so hard, she thought his head might tip off. His face shone and he started pointing down the street.

"What does Delphine has to do with Misty?"

Spalding stood still and very slowly, he dragged a finger over his throat. Fiona froze.

"Show me the way. Cometh, I have to go."

"Wait", he held on to her wrist, but she pulled her hand out of his grasp. His eyes turned sad, but she ignored it, because Spalding was already starting down the street.

"This is a family matter."

"I don't feel comfortable leaving you alone with this man. Or chasing what sounds like a homicidal woman."

"If he wanted to slice me up and stuff me into a fridge, he has had years to do so. And this is none of your business. Keep your concern to yourself." At that she left him to follow Spalding, hoping he would respect her word. She couldn't have more people entangled in this apparently never-ending scandal. And she couldn't let Delphine get to Misty. Too much depended on her. She ran as fast as her weakened body allowed and kept her eyes on Spalding's huddled figure up ahead.

O0O

Her shack felt too big. It was a small place and it had always fitted her perfectly, but now she only saw what was missing. The hum in the air had gone silent, always hibernating now until Cordelia returned. It felt like her own heart did the same. Misty hated that the even the solitude, which she had learned to take comfort in, turned against her now.

She felt like going crazy. She had refused to heal an injury, which she might be able to conquer. She had fought against the urge, ignored the call of the siren, only because it was Fiona. Doing so she had ignored what she thought was the very core of her being, all out of spite. She had even threatened to murder Hank. Twice. This wasn't her.

She had sent Nick away down to the swamp. She didn't want to lash out on him, when he had done nothing but be her friend and protect her. Now she found herself curled up in bed with a cup of her own tea, trying to get her mind back on a track of sense. She would lose the battle, she never wanted, if she continued down this path.

It made her think of the last time she felt this suffocated. She was only fourteen then and her mother had showed up to relieve her. And she had made the biggest mistake of her life, going with her. She didn't regret having a real mother for a year and a half, but it tore her apart that she might just have ruined the only home, she had ever had. Someone else had taken her place and Cordelia might never stray from the safety of her marriage. If only it was just a sham, but it was real, Misty knew that. It wasn't just that one horrible moment, she had witnessed, it was Cordelia's voice when she spoke of him. Maybe he had already won.

She tried to suppress the anger at this thought. She couldn't harm him. Cordelia would never forgive her. But she couldn't lose either.

A knock on the door. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew this wasn't Cordelia's knock, but she was too preoccupied to take notice.

Outside stood a long lost enemy. Her face shone with sinister excitement and Misty stared at her, dumbfounded, for a little too long.

"Hello freak", said Delphine and then she jammed a knife into Misty's side.

The pain was so sharp and so sudden it took her breath away. It froze her and she didn't move until Delphine yanked the knife out again and the warm, red liquid started spilling out over her clothes. Then Misty bent over with a strained whimper, hand clutched to her side. She tried to back away, but lost her footing and fell down on the hard wooden floor. The impact sent a jolt of pain through her and she screamed out. She heard steps and her dizzy, panicked mind tried to locate Delphine somewhere above her. She was no doubt ready to attack again.

"Did you think I'd be foolish enough to hesitate this time? I've been waiting to do this for a long time."

Misty's eyes slowly came back to focus and she tried to crawl away. Her whole body pulsated with adrenaline and she snarled at the woman. It didn't have as big an impact as it used to. Delphine bent down to her, hand lifting to aim.

Right then Misty heard a loud, nasty crack and felt drops of something warm hit her face, before Delphine fell down towards her. Misty screamed out and kicked her away, which earned her another painful jolt from her side. The body beside her didn't move. Misty scrambled to her feet, but lost her balance again and tumbled backwards into her kitchen counter. She sat there, gasping and staring at the unconscious Delphine.

"Are you okay, Misty?" It was Fiona's voice. Misty looked up to find her standing in the doorway, holding the frame for support with one hand and grasping the spade from the garden in the other. Behind her, Spalding of all people stood tripping, tiptoeing to catch a glimpse of the scene. His eyes found Delphine and he smiled a grim smile.

"Misty?" Fiona stepped over the body and went to her, but Misty didn't look at her. She continued to stare at Delphine and all the blood on the floor.

"No more. Damn. _Intruders_!"

"Hey, focus. Look at me." Misty looked up with reluctance. Fiona's eyes were wide and alert. "Are you hurt? You're bleeding." She had momentarily forgotten the pain, but now it throbbed under her skin again. She lifted the dress to assess the wound. It was hard to see anything but a dark hole a few inches below her ribs and a lot of blood. It hurt, but she could breathe again now. She was no doctor, yet she didn't feel like she was dying. Her body already worked to put her back together, only this was deeper than the last two times a knife had touched her. This would take longer.

"I'm fine", she snarled.

"Don't bullshit me, kid. She got in pretty deep, looks like. We need to stop this bleeding." She found a shawl hanging over the chair and tied it around Misty's stomach, before Misty could protest. She hissed as the cloth tightened around her injury. "You should thank your mom's crazy god, we got here in time."

It dawned her then. How Fiona always acted like she despised Misty, but once again, when her aid was needed…

"You saved me?" It came out as more of a question than a statement. Fiona's expression didn't turn soft for more than a second, but it was there.

"Don't go weak in the knees, rainbow. Now you owe me double for saving your life. Where has your ferocity gone today? Where is your sense of self-preservation? You used to attack kids for less."

Misty scowled at her. "I was surprised. And I'm not actually an animal, you know."

"Could have fooled me."

Misty bared her teeth at her, but Fiona ignored it. Instead she got up to take a closer look at Delphine.

"Is she dead?" Misty asked. She looked at Spalding first, who sat by Delphine. He shook his head and Misty thought he looked a little disappointed.

"No, my swing is not that good I'm afraid", Fiona said. She scoffed and cursed under her breath. "Letting her out of Laveau's debt and this is how she repays me? Trying to kill off everyone, who stands still long enough? Where do we dispose of this ungrateful lump?"

"Maybe Nick can help."

"Who in the name of Christ is Nick?"

"He's my gator friend."

Fiona gaped and then tsk'ed with a look of exasperation. "If you have an alligator, why the hell do I need to come save you?"

Misty didn't answer that, but worked her way into an upright position. With help from the kitchen counter, she managed. It hurt and her legs trembled a little, but she stayed up. The room went quiet as the two others watched her struggle.

"Anyway, I'm sure he'll do", Fiona then said. "Let's get her out of the way and get back to the house. I'd like to get out of here as soon as possible. It reminds me of Myrtle's old apartment and the blood doesn't help."

"I don't wanna come", Misty said. She spoke through her teeth to keep the pain under control.

"Now is not the time to pout over your complicated love life. You can't expect me to leave you in this condition. You're a little smarter than that, I remember paying to make sure of it. Why would you even want to live in this awful place to begin with?"

Misty snarled at her. It was all the hostility she could manage at the moment. Fiona chuckled with condescending laughter.

"The years back in the swamp really have done wonders for your vocabulary, huh? Now will you _please_ come back to the house? If I don't bring you along as proof you're not dead, my daughter will march out here and this", she gestured to the blood on the floor, "Is not something she should see."

Misty couldn't argue with that. And she longed for that warm embrace. It had healing powers of its own.

On the floor, Delphine's left hand twitched.

"Spalding, can you drag her?" Misty asked and he nodded, before going around to pick up the maid's chubby feet. He might have lost strength over the years, but his eagerness made up for it and he dragged Delphine to the spot Misty pointed out. He looked at her for a while, as if to check if she would move, and then came back to the shack. He put an arm around Misty and supported her, as the three of them left the forest.

O0O

Delphine spent her last minutes trying to figure out where she had woken up. She had been so close to slicing up that little witch, but something had knocked her out. The pain made her dizzy and she realized she couldn't walk. The pain had reached that state, where it made parts of her body go numb. She could barely feel her legs. She had looked down just before to find that they were so torn, it made her own hobby look like tiny scratches on a surface. But she was too confused to acknowledge it yet. Instead, she looked around.

Darkness was the dominant color around her. The waters lay ahead and her background was thick with trees. The ground was mushy. She must still be in the forest. Only closer to the river.

When she turned again, she noticed a shape of a person to her right. It bend in weird ways. The shape looked oddly distorted, but it must be a person. Delphine inched closer and as her eyes adjusted to the lack of light, she saw it. It definitely used to be a person. A young man. Only he was half eaten and it had been quite a while since he was last breathing. Dread crept in, flooded Delphine's numb body. Alarm began to crawl under her skin like ants and prickling the wave of panic brought something else with it too. Small figures rose from the murky waters, and these weren't human at all. These were low, long scaly figures and they closed in on her in silence. They came for her.

Delphine started to scream and it only agitated the alligators further. But the first attack didn't come from the swamp. It came from behind. From a smaller alligator, who for once was allowed to join the feast.


	27. Chapter 27

Fiona supported Misty as they walked the distance from her shack to the mansion. Misty had insisted on walking by herself, but after almost dropping twice from exhaustion, she caved. Fiona felt weird having the wild child's arm around her neck and her body pressed against her own like that. She had been Misty's adoptive mother and provided for her for nine years, yet this was the closest they had ever come to a hug.

Spalding supported Misty on the other side. The both of them were needed to hold Misty, as neither had the strength to do it alone. Fiona thought they must look pathetic. The scant strength the chemotherapy let her keep, she had used to knock out the old maid and whatever strength Spalding's frail body still contained, which could have supported Misty alone had been spent dragging Delphine to her final feast. Fiona couldn't say she wasn't pleased with the thought that Delphine might finally experience a bit of that skin peeling herself, however disgusting the mental picture was.

When they reached the doorstep, Misty withdrew her hands and made them let her go.

"Trying to play tough, are you?"

Misty didn't answer. She looked exhausted and her appearance didn't help the picture. Droplets of blood mixed with the sweat on her face and she still had on the blood stained dress with the bloody shawl wrapped around it. She hadn't wanted to change, because the blood would soak right through the new dress anyway. She would scare the hell out of Cordelia. Misty shifted her weight and bared her teeth in a snarl, as if she could scare the pain away. She drew her breaths in careful, labored drags, but she could stand upright now. Fiona thought that was at least something. A sign she was healing. Her rapid restoration never ceased to amaze Fiona. She trusted this strange power to be enough.

Fiona opened the door and prayed that she could catch her daughter, before she saw anything.

She was in no luck. Cordelia came out of the kitchen right as the three of them came in. Her eyes scanned the scene and all the color vanished from her face.

"Cordelia, it's not as bad as it-"

" _Misty_!" She rushed right past Fiona with an expression of unconcealed panic and cupped Misty's face in her hands. "Misty, are you okay?" Cordelia didn't let Misty talk, but looked to the blood on her clothes. Her hands trembled as they reached out for the shawl, but she changed her mind, withdrew them and looked at Misty's face again. "What happened to you?!"

Fiona noticed how the pained grimace had disappeared from Misty's face, as if she didn't want Cordelia to see how much it still hurt. She tried to stand on her own, but had to grasp Cordelia's shoulder for support. Even so, she drew out a small smile.

"I'm okay, Delia, it's just a cut. Takes more than that to get rid of me." Her voice was soft and warm now and her smile set askew. Fiona thought it was bullshit, but it seemed to calm Cordelia a little.

"Take all the credit, why don't you?" Fiona said and wiped her own face with the back of her hand. She had spatters of blood all over too, but Cordelia hadn't even noticed.

They both ignored her. "You can't stand here like this, come on inside", Cordelia said and led Misty into the living room. Just then Hank came down the stairs.

"What's going on down- what's _she_ doing here?" His eyes caught the back of Misty's head and rushed down the last steps.

"Not now, Hank", Fiona hissed at him as she followed him into the living room.

"You should lie down, Misty", Cordelia said. Her voice shook and she kept eyeing the blood on Misty's dress.

Fiona caught the brief glance Misty shot Hank, before she said: "Don't need it." Fiona almost wanted to laugh, as Misty sat down on the couch and her eyes closed for a moment, as if to shut out the pain. She was hiding her weakness like animal refusing to give up dominance, only because Hank was in the room with them. Fiona followed the silent fight between them. She wasn't sure whose gaze expressed the deepest hate.

"Will someone _please_ tell me what happened here?" Cordelia asked, looking from Fiona to Misty, her eyes still filled with tears.

"Delphine happened", Misty said. They all listened for a few minutes as Misty told them how Delphine has knocked on her door and stabbed her. "She came for revenge. For back then. She always hated me for bein' what I am. Woulda been in real trouble, if Fiona hadn't saved me." At that she looked up at Fiona and the gratitude was real.

Cordelia turned around and looked at her too. "You saved her?" It was as if she only now realized Fiona was even there. Then she smiled through her tears. "Thank you." Fiona thought she felt something break inside her at the sound of these words.

Cordelia looked back at Misty and their hands found each other. It barely seemed a conscious act, just an impulse neither of them thought to fight. "It's all my fault, Misty, I'm so sorry. I never warned you that she was back."

"Didn't you do that the other night?" Hank asked from the back of the room, where he stood leaning against the doorframe with an angry look on his face. A loaded silence followed.

Fiona thoroughly enjoyed watching Hank trying to guess what had filled the blank space of that other night. She realized she had given the man too much credit over the years. She thought he might, at the end of the day, have a certain handle on Cordelia, which she never possessed herself, but he was about as observant as a blind man. It baffled her to no end how he had managed to not see this. It shone from her.

Cordelia turned to look at her husband, apology written all over her face. "Something came up. It's not what you think, it was someone from Misty's past who had attacked her and she was upset, so I forgot."

"How many enemies can you gather in one swamp?" Fiona asked Misty, who bared her teeth and snarled. She still looked drained, but the motion hinted of a little more energy. Hank was about to say something, but before a multi front fight could break out, Spalding interrupted them. He came in from the kitchen, carrying a bowl of water and a towel.

" _Spalding_?" Cordelia's expression was one of utter disbelief. For a moment, Fiona had forgotten all about him. He went around the couch, placed the bowl on the table and offered Misty a wet towel. When she nodded and lay back, he gently placed it on her forehead.

"Thanks Spaldin'."

He smiled at her.

"Where did _he_ come from? How is he here?" Cordelia asked, while looking from Misty to Fiona again.

"He found me", Fiona explained. "He's the reason I found Delphine. We should probably give him credit for that."

Cordelia's eyes widened and she turned again to look at Spalding. In that moment no one would be able to tell that she had been appalled by him her whole life. "Thank you." Again, the two simple words came from a place so deep within Cordelia's heart it made Fiona's own heart flutter. Spalding smiled back as an answer.

"So that's your old butler?" Hank asked. He sounded pissed off, like a resentful child who felt left out of the group.

"Yes that's him", Cordelia said in a distant voice. She was looking at Misty's blood again. "I need to see how bad it is", she told her. She untangled her fingers from Misty's and reached out, but Misty grabbed her wrist and stopped her. She looked up and the little towel fell down, so she removed it. The two women held each other's gaze for a moment in silence as everyone watched them.

"I can handle it. I need to know."

Fiona concluded that the force of denial was exceptionally strong within Hank, if he still thought he stood a chance after tonight. She studied her daughter as a silent argument went on between her and Misty. Fiona had come to understand that this was a secret form of communication between them. A language meant only for the two of them, like those of twins. And the air was so thick with the energy surrounding them both that they wouldn't have been more obvious, if they were making out right there on her couch.

Watching the two, Fiona couldn't help pitying boy Foxx. No one paid him any mind. Cordelia had only room for Misty and her injury, which might be understandable under the circumstances, and Misty herself held just about zero regards for the husband. Now he lurked in the back like some old poster on the wall, as if afraid to go closer. He always was scared of women, but this was reaching new heights. He looked laughably uncomfortable. Of course, Fiona thought, he was losing his wife to an illiterate swamp rat; the man must be in hell.

It might have only been seconds, but the silence seemed to stretch on for minutes on end, before the muted discussion was over. Misty let go of Cordelia's wrist and leaned back again. Cordelia hesitated a moment, then looked up a Spalding.

"Can you get me a scissor? They haven't been moved."

He nodded and went. Cordelia untied the shawl, her fingers more steady now. When Spalding came back and handed her the scissor, Cordelia carefully cut the bloodstained cloth away, opened up a hole to access the wound. It looked darker now as the skin around the hole had colored from the impact and the dried blood had stiffened around it. Cordelia's breath hitched when she saw it and her eyes watered up again, but she held it in.

"Why hasn't it healed yet?"

"Okay, maybe it was a little more than a cut", Misty admitted. "But don't worry, it'll heal. Just takes a little longer when it's myself."

"Shouldn't we get you to a hospital?"

Misty shook her head. "Hospitals ain't for me. You know that."

Cordelia nodded with a grave look on her face. "How long before it heals up?" Her voice sounded fragile again.

"In a couple days it'll be nothin'. Coulda been much worse." Misty's voice was light and reassuring, but at her words, Cordelia's tears rose and spilled over again. "Hey…"

"You can't scare me like that again."

"I'm okay, darlin', I promise. Save those tears." Misty reached up and touched her face with a delicacy Fiona didn't think she possessed.

Fiona stood back in the shadows and hated that Misty could comfort her daughter so effortlessly, while she herself was left to stand here and having her heart broken by a simple thank you.

Hank stormed out of the room.

"Hank…" Cordelia didn't say anymore. It was no use; the front door had already slammed. Cordelia stared past Fiona for a second or two, her features laced with sadness.

"Worry about one thing at a time, Cordelia", Fiona said and nodded at Misty. She sent Spalding a look and then they left the room.

"Get me a glass of water", Fiona ordered Spalding. If he was back to stay, she might as well put him to use. He nodded and went for it. In the living room, Fiona could hear them talk.

"Why can't you heal yourself as fast?"

"I don't know. Just doesn't work like that." Misty's voice sounded better too, less strained, but it might just be the company; Fiona had a sneaking suspicion that had something to do with it.

"At least let me clean it."

Spalding came back with a glass of water for her and one, with which he pointed to the living room.

"I'll take it", Fiona said. "Go see if there's a first aid kit with gauze somewhere."

Fiona walked into the room again with the odd feeling that she was intruding a private moment. Nothing should be private in her house, yet the hum in the air told her differently. Cordelia was busy dipping the blood away from Misty's skin with the wet towel and Misty watched her do it. She didn't utter a word – she was tough after all. When Fiona neared, she looked up. Her eyes clearly told Fiona that she _was_ intruding. Fiona held up the glass and placed it in front of Misty, which caused her gaze to soften. Neither of them said anything.

Fiona left the room again, but she kept an eye on them from the doorway. She had never seen them together as adults, and while the same old sense of comfort had settled around them, there was something undeniably different about their interactions now.

"I want you to stay here until I know you're healed", Cordelia said and looked up. Misty shot her a glance. "Please? Just two days. Then… I'll talk to Hank."

Misty's head snapped up. "You promise?"

Cordelia nodded. "I promise."

One of the brightest smiles, Fiona had ever seen, broke out on Misty's face. Fiona couldn't help the little smile tugging at her own lips. Misty's mood was suddenly radiant. Fiona left the doorway, thinking that Mr. Foxx might as well start packing his bags.

O0O

Hank was sure now, having spent two days sheltering Misty and her recovery, that he knew what hell looked like. It was one thing to have Cordelia's dragon mother staring at him with disapproval, but the silent war he had to take up every time Misty so much as looked at him left him boiling with rage. He drowned his words in cheap liquor, but even in a nearly constant drunken haze, Misty got to him.

She rarely left the guest room at all – the one that used to be her old room, Cordelia had told him and he had to take another drink, because he wanted to scream at her every time she so much as mentioned Misty – and if she did, she was outside in the greenhouse. And Hank tried to camp out at the bars instead, but still he couldn't help catching them together. They never did anything that crossed the line, except that Misty somehow made every innocent touch look like crossing the line. Even talking. He couldn't get over how soft her voice was, whenever she talked to Cordelia. It was nothing like the woman he had met in the woods.

Cordelia was different too. He couldn't put words to it, but she was. They were both different people when they were with each other, as if they had their own little alternate world and he hated the sight. He would look at Cordelia after she had spent a few minutes alone with Misty – because he'd be damned if he was getting anywhere near that crazy alligator tamer – and she would have a look of inner peace on her face and hate came out of his pores.

By the time Misty finally went home to her shack, all healed up by whatever dark magic had roots in her body, Hank was so coiled up with rage, he jumped at the first sight of Cordelia's return.

She came into the living room, where he sat with a half-empty bottle of vodka. A headache was emerging from back of his head, creeping over his skull and even her gentle voice cut like glass.

"I'm back."

"I can see that", he snapped and got up. She cringed at his tone and moved, when he pushed passed her in the doorway.

"I'm sorry, Hank. I know that was asking a lot of you, having her here, but I just couldn-"

"Will you just shut up about her now? Let me enjoy that's she finally gone!" He turned to see Cordelia recoil from his words.

"I'm sorry", she whispered.

"You know what, I don't think you are", he spat. The words started rolling off his tongue, a little too fast for his drunken mind to keep up. "I think you don't give a shit how I feel. Who the hell invites their mistress to a sleepover? I don't give a fuck if she's cut in half, _that_ was over the line!"

"Please don't talk like that." Her eyes were filled with tears, but he ignored them. The sight might hurt, but the fog around his senses protected him. "I know this is awful, but I thought we somehow could-"

"Well we can't! I can't do this. I can't even look at you! So I'm gonna go somewhere, where you and your mean, condescending dragon mother can't find me."

"No, please don't." Her voice was a broken whisper. A quivering flood of tears. "Hank, please don't leave. I need you."

" _Why_? What _exactly_ do you need me for, huh? It looks to me like _Misty_ can do everything!"

"But I love you."

"Stop saying that!" He bellowed at her. He didn't even notice he had thrown his glass, until he heard it splinter somewhere in the living room. Cordelia started sobbing and clung to the doorframe for support. Hank didn't care. "Could you just not? Just shut up! It would make it all so fucking easy to understand if you didn't, but this…" His empty hands grasped in the air for the drink, he had just thrown. His throat felt strained already and forced him to continue in a lower voice. "I thought your demons was the enemy that you and I were going to have. And I could handle that. But not this. I don't know what that thing is between you two, but clearly I'm no match. She must have some spell on you or something. Me? I'm just good old fashioned in love with you, but that's not enough anymore now, _is it_?!"

He hated that he could hear tears in his own voice now. He wanted to yell more, but his voice wouldn't let him and the look on Cordelia's face threated to take the life right out of him. He watched as she crumbled to the floor, hid her face in her hands and cried. He snorted out a bitter laugh.

"I wasn't even supposed to do this with you. I wasn't supposed to love you. It was all my father's scheme, you know. He sent me to you to dig up stuff about your old crazy maid, so he could use it against Fiona. And I did. You really think the newspapers had so much information? I'm telling you, his campaign against Fiona came right out of _your_ mouth. And I was free to go then, but idiot I am, I fell in love with you. Stupid fucking cliché. So this is what I get, I guess."

Cordelia showed her face again. The tears still ran, but she had stopped sobbing. Instead she stood up, looked at him with utter disbelief.

"I can't believe my mother was right about you. Why would you do that?"

He snorted again. "Come on, Cordelia, we both do too much to please our parents. So I guess I betrayed you once too. But not like this. And I've been there for you since, I should still get some credit, I think. I may not be as good a fuck-"

"Please Hank, that's not what it's about." Her expression had turned dark and though her voice still shook from crying, there was a new and harder shade to the misery. Disappointment, anger. But he didn't care anymore.

"How's Misty going to pay for all the doctors, huh? How's she going to help you get fixed?"

Cordelia choked out a painful chuckle. "That's the thing, Hank. With her, I don't need fixing."

All the air rushed out of his throat in an odd way as the words sunk in. A weird sound that wasn't even words came out of his mouth. It sounded a bit like laughter.

"Fine. That's fine, I'm done! I'm just gonna go out and tell the whole world what kind of witch you've rejected me for!"

He turned before he could catch the reaction on her face. He fumbled for the car keys on the table by the door, ripped the door open and left the mansion. Now he knew this was never really his home. He ignored Cordelia calling his name, threw himself in the driver's seat and backed out of the driveway without another thought.

O0O

Misty's patience was slipping up. Her whole world was wearing thin, as she waited for Cordelia to show up. She had promised to be patient, promised to stay away until Cordelia had sorted it out with Hank and came to find her. She would do that, give her the needed space, now that Cordelia finally agreed to set things right. Only it had been four days now and it felt like something was wrong. Like a little injured bird in her chest, fluttering around, calling for help. But she had promised her. And she knew that her being there in the middle of that conversation would ruin whatever scraps of a relationship with Hank Cordelia hoped to save. She didn't need two whole days back in the Goode Mansion to figure that out.

So, she tended to her garden, played every Fleetwood Mac song thrice and spent hours talking to Nick. Still, impatience crawled in her body like ants. Being with Cordelia had changed her perspective on solitude. It didn't use to scream like this.

Her wound was barely a scratch now. It had taken quite a while and it was still tender at places, but she didn't admit that to anyone. She needed to get out of that house. She couldn't be there as long as Hank was, the stench of their dying marriage stung in her eyes. It was too much, watching Cordelia torment herself like that. At least out here, Misty could breathe.

Late at night, the fourth day after Misty's return to the swamp there was a knock on her door. But it wasn't Cordelia. She knew that even before she opened the door.

Outside stood Fiona. The anger Misty had built up in those few moments before she answered, blew away when she saw the look on Fiona's face.

"What's wrong?" Misty demanded, icky heat already rising in her throat.

"It's Cordelia", Fiona answered. Her tone was so hard and cold, Misty almost didn't hear the fear underneath. "She's not herself, she's… Frankly, I can't tell you what she is. She doesn't eat, she doesn't sleep, she doesn't talk. Hell, she doesn't even cry. Cordelia _always_ cries. They're threatening to admit her, if she doesn't respond soon and I don't know how to talk to her. I never did. But _you_ do and if anyone can get through to her, it's you." The dread grew in her with every word and when Fiona stopped talking, everything stopped for a moment. She had been right, something was wrong. Yet she stayed here and let it happen.

"What happened?"

Fiona sighed. There was an odd sense of defeat about her. Misty was just about to demand that she spit it out, when she said: "Hank is dead. Goddamn fool got himself killed in a traffic accident. And Cordelia is not taking it well."

Misty didn't even bother to close her door, before she started walking. "Is she home?"

"Yes", Fiona answered behind her. She could barely keep up, but Misty didn't bother to slow her pace. "I left her with Spalding. I didn't want to leave, but someone had to fetch you. Why don't you own a goddamn phone?"

Misty ignored her and kept walking, dread churning her gut.

"Tell me more 'bout what happened", she said instead, to try to keep her brain focused. It was spiraling into panic at the thought of Cordelia alone with her pain. Spalding could never comfort her.

Fiona came up beside her with effort. "The police came to us late at night four days ago and Cordelia went into her bizarre state of mind almost immediately. She turns into an empty shell and sometimes she hears things. It has happened once before, when Myrtle died. Back then she was admitted for several weeks, it was awful. I won't put her through that again. I took her to her psychiatrist two days ago, but I can't get her to take the medication. See if you can't make her do it, because I'm about one step from shoving it down her throat."

"You're not shovin' anythin'", Misty snarled at her. "Why didn't you get me sooner?"

"Excuse me, can you drive a car? Do you have money to go buy medicine? I was busy."

Misty didn't answer, because just then they reached the right street and Misty ran the rest of the way, leaving a panting Fiona behind.

"Delia, where are you?" She called as soon as she was inside. She received no answer. With a pounding heart, she marched down the hall to search, but stopped as Spalding appeared with a steaming cup in his hands.

"Where is she?"

He looked at her with sad eyes. Then he looked at the open doorway to the living room. Misty went in.

She saw her at once. Cordelia sat in a chair over by the far end window and looked out into the emerging darkness. She sat with her hands in her lab, eyes fixated beyond the window glass and she didn't move an inch. Misty heart pounded even worse. Everything was still about her, too still. The hum Misty always felt in her presence had vanished, as if sucked into the vortex of darkness that currently resided in Cordelia. Misty could feel it even from this distance.

"Darlin'?"

Nothing. Cordelia didn't even turn her head.

Somewhere behind Misty, the front door closed, but Fiona kept away. She didn't interrupt as Misty carefully tread closer to the chair and the silent body in it.

Misty stepped close, hovered over Cordelia for second. It was as if some invisible wall had been raised around her, blocking the treads of their connection. Even the usual magnetism seemed to have lost its pull. As if her pole has been turned off.

For once, Misty didn't know where to start.

She kneeled down beside Cordelia, took her hand. It remained cold and immobile under Misty's fingers and she had to swallow the lump in her throat, before she could talk.

"Cordelia, look at me." Her voice came out harsh from fright, but it worked. Cordelia finally turned her head to meet her eyes. What Misty found was a quiet emptiness, bottomless and dark. Misty felt cold as a sudden unknown and paralyzing fear overtook her body. It was as if Cordelia wasn't even there. And there was the strangest kind of injury hiding in her body. Misty could feel it, but she couldn't touch it.

"Misty?" Even her voice sounded distant. Like an ephemeral ghost just passing through the room.

"I'm here, darlin'", she choked out. "I heard about Hank. Delia, I'm so sorry."

The words barely registered in her face. It looked like every emotion had been wiped out of her features, and left was only a mask of something so empty it scared Misty to tears.

A muscle in Cordelia's hand twitched and Misty tightened her grip.

"They say it's all my fault", Cordelia said in the same distant voice as before. It sounded hoarse too, as if it hadn't been used in a while. "They say I did it, because I let him leave."

"Who does?" It was a reflex to think of Fiona, but something told Misty, she wasn't to blame this time. Not with the way she came begging Misty for help.

Cordelia lifted her hands to her head, rubbed her temples in symmetrical circles and her empty gaze started to swim. Misty noticed little red claw marks on each side of her face. Then she looked at Misty again and with her right hand, she pointed at her own head.

"Them."


	28. Chapter 28

**A/N: Hey guys, sorry for the long wait! I had some roadblocks, but this chapter is extra long, so I hope you forgive me.**

* * *

Misty moved into the house again that same night. She took over for Fiona, helped Cordelia dress and eat and take her medication. It felt like taking care of a doll. She might be breathing and she stood up or lifted an arm, when Misty told her to, but she wasn't there. She didn't say a word the first whole day Misty was back. She barely slept at all, but stared into the ceiling or curled into a ball at the foot of the bed, clawing at her temples with panic in her scratches, until blood came. It didn't give her rest. Whatever it was she heard, that Misty couldn't hear, tormented her enough to keep her from sleep.

The panic always woke Misty up. She sat down beside Cordelia in the dark and gently pried her trembling fingers away from her face.

"It won't do no good, scratchin' yourself bloody, darlin'."

Cordelia looked at her and the purest form of despair shone from her eyes. Misty didn't need her words, she understood this just as well. She pulled Cordelia into her arms and stroked her hair, while she sang a quiet song, hoping it could ease some of Cordelia's pain, since her hands couldn't reach it.

Cordelia struggled at first, whimpered with resistance, but at last she cradled herself in Misty's embrace. Her head rested at the crook of Misty's neck and her wrists were caught by Misty's hand, so she couldn't scratch. The exhaustion came off her like an aura, something so consuming it felt almost solid. Like a frizz in the air. Misty kept singing until she calmed and she prayed she could at least do this for Cordelia. Get her to sleep a few hours. She felt so powerless in this, because Cordelia wasn't only injured; she was broken and in a way Misty didn't have the first clue how to mend.

Caught in Misty's embrace, sleep seemed a little easier for Cordelia. After three songs, her breathing slowed to that of a light slumber. Misty didn't dare move, but sat still, listening to the sound of her breathing. She kept on singing, but it was mostly to calm herself.

When morning came, so did the deep-rooted indifference that often inhabited Cordelia's body now. She looked at Misty as if she was a part of the wall. Cordelia now had dark shadows under her eyes from the five days of largely no sleep and her dead expression made her look like a ghost more than ever. The smile in her eyes, which Misty used to find whenever their eyes locked, was long gone. Often, Cordelia looked at her like she didn't even recognize her. She received her morning pill as if she was being handed a remedy from a stranger. She had taken the medication every time Misty offered it, but to no avail. Fiona passed on the doctor's words, that these type of drugs took a while to exert any noticeable effect, but it didn't bring Misty much comfort. None of the states, Cordelia alternated between, offered any kind of hope that the treatment would ever work. Misty wasn't sure if the reality-lapses was even that much worse than this indifference. She could live with the silence, but not when it accompanied such hollow presence.

"You gotta get it out, Delia." She said one afternoon, when she had had enough, and kneeled in front of Cordelia. Cordelia sat on a chair in her bedroom this time, staring out the window. Misty didn't know what she was trying to spot out there, but she would take whatever explanation, if Cordelia would only give it to her. "You're always the talker. You tell me things, when you needa sort 'em out. I'll listen to whatever it is." Cordelia didn't take her eyes away from the window and her swimming gaze seemed as infinite as the sky outside. Her hand didn't give the slightest hint that it realized the contact with Misty's. "Say somethin', _please_."

Her eyes flickered this time. Cordelia's absent gaze turned hard, when she finally acknowledged Misty's presence.

"They say so many cruel things", she said. Her eyes were still fixated on something in a distance, her body stayed rigid, and her tone dead. Yet, it was still her own delicate voice, one that used to speak such beautiful words, and the loss of softness broke Misty's heart. Cordelia swallowed once and continued: "They say maybe it's your fault I'm like this. Myrtle died for you. You left. Maybe I would have been normal, if I'd never known you."

Misty felt tears sting in her eyes. She couldn't catch Cordelia's eyes so she hoped a squeeze of her hand would empathize her words instead. They came out croaked and quivering:

"I'm sorry I hurt you so much. You know I am. I'd do anythin' to make up for it, name it."

"Can you leave me alone?"

Misty felt like the cold, despicable hand clenched around her insides again. She felt like a failure. Creating distance seemed like the worst possible idea, but even so, she stood up.

"Sure. I-I'll go check on Nick for a while. I'll be back soon."

Cordelia only continued to stare out the window.

Misty strode out of the room. She overheard Fiona's "Where do you think you're going?", as she passed her in the hall and left the house.

Nick awaited her at her garden. He must have had a bad night too, because he had ruined a few of her herbal plants. Misty dried her eyes with the back of her hand and got to work. At least this she still knew how to do. Plants were easier than people. And the only things they whispered were notes of nature. Never cruel whispers.

She had found that she could heal certain plant injuries too. She didn't know why that was, but she didn't need to. Her body told her that here was something she could fix, so she did. Soon the little herb poked up from the ground, content and alive.

When that was done, she went inside and tried cleaning the mess of blood on her floor. She had left some of it, the stains more stubborn to come off. Only now could she find the motivation. She scrubbed with every cleaning mixture she had, but it had soaked into the wood of the floorboards and would likely never come off again. She scrubbed until her fingers hurt, and when it still wouldn't vanish, she growled in frustration and threw all her utensils across the room. She went outside to Nick again, who still laid by the garden, unaffected by her outburst. She hoped to absorb a bit of his calm, but her whole body throbbed with anger over this problem she couldn't solve. When Fiona asked her to help, her naivety had led her to believe that she could. Suddenly, she wasn't so sure. But Fiona had come to her, which meant she had lost hope in every treatment civilization had to offer. Misty was the last resort. And she was failing.

"How was I supposed to know it, Nick? How was I supposed to know that it would wreck her like this? If only mama had explained it better. Or if Fiona had stopped me. She wanted to, I know it."

The alligator remained a silent rock.

"Don't tell me you blame me too." She sniffled and watched the late autumn wind blow leaves over Nick's scaly back. One leaf got caught there for just a second, struggled against the rough skin before it jumped into the air and soared through the wind. She watched it float in the air, up and away, before she could pull herself together. "I know I shouldn't hide out here. I know that. Can't keep bein' scared." She drew a determined breath, wiped the last of her tears away and rose to her feet. "That's enough space. She needs me, you know. Whether she likes to admit it or not. You be good, while I'm gone, and leave my plants alone, okay?"

She gave him a small smile before he left. He always made her feel better, even when there was nothing to feel good about.

The house seemed threatening now, in another sense than before. This time it wasn't the house itself, but knowing that the one light within it had been blown out. It felt like shadows emerged from the creaks of the structure, seeped into her as she entered. This aching perplexity she felt was something new entirely, inescapable and suffocating. The further she came into the house the harder it became to breathe through. But she had to.

On her way, she found Fiona sitting in the kitchen, staring at the phone, a glass of whiskey beside her and the bottle on the other side.

She looked up when Misty stopped, eyed the glass and said. "I know what you're thinking. I'm not a complete idiot. I won't lose my head, when she's like that."

Misty didn't say anything, but went to take a glass of water.

"You sure left in a hurry."

"She wanted space." Misty swallowed once and emptied her glass. Her voice sounded strained. It only took one sentence from Fiona to pry open the lit she had spent a good twenty minutes screwing onto her emotions and now she felt like crying all over again.

"She wanted space from _you_? Christ, we're in trouble." Misty kept her back to Fiona, didn't want to show her that her eyes were watering up. If only Fiona would stop poking, where it hurt the most. Misty started to get a new understanding Cordelia's childhood torments.

"Please Misty. You have to help me." The tone of her voice had made such a radical change, it caused Misty to turn around. The harsh look was gone from Fiona's face. Several layers had been stripped off in a second and left was only a pleading expression.

"I said-" She started, but Fiona interrupted her.

"Oh don't be so goddamn stupid! It's not for my sake, it's for Cordelia's. You see how she handles death. How do you think she's going to react, when I die from this, huh? That's on you too, if you don't fix me. We both know you can."

"We don't. I can't fix everythin'."

"You could at least try. Because I'm sitting here, planning the funeral and if you don't step up, I might as well start making calls for my own. I know I'm not her favorite person, but all she wants is a family and soon she will have none. There'll be nothing left of her!" Fiona hissed the last words out and then looked away. The notion that Fiona might be hiding tears, made Misty afraid in a way. It felt like everybody was surrendering. The whole house was going into a strange kind of hibernation, dragged into sleep by the darkness that eluded from the second floor. Misty felt like she was suffocating again.

"I just told her I cancelled her fertility treatment this morning", Fiona said in a mushy voice. "And nothing. This is worse than last time. If she doesn't even want you…"

"But why did you do that? Cancel? It's important to her. You just said that with wantin' family."

Fiona shook her head. "There's no point now. The doctor says the antipsychotics are working against the treatment anyway. I guess it's all up to you."

Misty let herself fall back against the kitchen counter. "But I don't know what to do", she admitted. Her voice trembled at the edge. "She's so broken."

"Well fix her!" Misty's gaze snapped up to find Fiona staring at her with fury in her eyes. "That's what you do, isn't it? My daughter breaks and you swoop in and put her back together."

"I think maybe she gotta do this one on her own."

"She's a dead soul in a living body! How can she possibly do anything?"

"You don't get it!" Misty screamed at her. She sobbed once and then she was crying in front of the woman, she had sworn she would never show weakness. The unspoken power struggle, which had always raged between them, seemed meaningless now. She didn't even try to cover the tears. " _I_ did this to her", she cried. "'Cause I left. And then came back. I called out for her in the woods back then and I've been pushin' her to tell him. I should have just let her live her own life. She's right, it's my fault."

Fiona took a sip of her whiskey and offered the bottle to Misty. Misty understood the gesture, but shook her head. Fiona shrugged and put it back. Then she drew out a little cardboard box and lit a cigarette from it. Misty watched the smoke twirl into the air for a few empty seconds.

"Perhaps it is", Fiona finally said and looked up again. "I wouldn't know. But if you want the truth, she was never happy without you."

"Not even before she met me?"

Fiona shrugged. "Some days she was. But hell, she was stuck with me several states away from her aunt and the few friends she had. Your timing wasn't that awful."

Misty thought about it, tried to let the thought console her. She blinked the last tears away and sniffled once.

"Thanks." Fiona gave her a small nod and turned a page on the catalogue on the desk, effectively checking out of the conversation. Misty was relieved to be released. "I'll go check on her."

Misty would never have thought she'd live to see the day, but the brief conversation with Fiona had left her more optimistic. It was exactly the armor she needed to keep her emotions in check, when she found Cordelia.

She hadn't moved from the chair, but now she sat curled up in it, shaking and clawing at her head again. She whimpered unintelligible words. The indifference had vanished for a moment, swallowed up by frightful hallucination. Misty rushed to her side.

"Delia, please calm down, it's okay. It ain't real."

Cordelia saw nothing, but continued her quest to scratch the voices out of her head. She had smeared her own blood all over her temples and into her hair, and it had crept under her fingernails too. Misty had to fight against the urge to heal, because she had to calm Cordelia first. Fighting this urge built into a panic in her chest, a panic that intensified as she felt Cordelia's own, but she bit it all down and focused on step one.

She tried to get hold of Cordelia's hands, but Cordelia ripped them out of her grasp and clasped them around her head again, whimpering wordless despair.

"Darlin', it's me. I'm back. Can you hear me?"

No reaction.

Misty reached up once more to pull her hands away, but Cordelia hissed and snaked them out of Misty's hands again. Misty then grabbed Cordelia by both her wrists, hard, and pulled her to the floor, before she could withdraw a third time. Here Misty could lock her arms around Cordelia's trembling frame and keep her from hurting herself. Cordelia screamed, fought with all her strength against the embrace, but Misty was stronger.

"Stop it Delia! Stop fightin' me, I'm helpin' you!" She held on tighter, until Cordelia could barely move in her arms and shushed her, until she finally calmed. Her battle reduced to a light jerking tremble. "I'm here now. It's okay", Misty soothed. Cordelia dropped her head on Misty's shoulder, exhaling an exhausted breath against her neck.

"Make them stop", Cordelia whispered. "They're talking all at once."

"I'll try. Close your eyes now."

Cordelia didn't say more and Misty could only guess she was exhausted enough to obey without further struggle. When her body ceased to jerk, Misty reached up a hand to tend to the scratches on Cordelia's face. A knot released itself from her gut, when she finally saw the red lines disappear. By the time she had them healed up, Cordelia was half asleep and the only sound left was the pounding in Misty's own ears. Her heart beat so fast it felt like it would burst out of her body. She didn't move, while Cordelia dwelled in her fragile sleep, not even when her feet turned numb.

O0O

Fiona was no mother of the year. She knew that. She was never an expert on children and she didn't have the best handle on teenagers either. Even when her daughter turned adult and she thought that they at least had some common ground, she realized she still only carved the abyss greater between them. The mothering abilities she should have gained throughout Cordelia's childhood never came to and you can't teach an old dog new tricks. Yet, Fiona had never felt as useless as she did today.

She stood by the door, listened and sometimes peeked. After having spent an hour trying to get Cordelia out of bed, she had finally given up and let Misty have her place.

It was the day of the funeral. They would have to leave for the ceremony in an hour. It would be a closed casket affair. Hank's injuries weren't that visible, but Fiona had convinced Harrison that the sight of him might be too much for Cordelia either way. Fiona peeked through the door, watched Cordelia curled up by the headboard, staring into space and thought that seeing Hank wouldn't only be bad for her. It might just kill her.

"Delia, you need to get ready. A hot shower'll be good for you." Misty's voice had gotten softer over the last few days. It always was when she spoke to Cordelia, but more so now. It was fear that grinded the edges off. Misty would probably never admit it, but Fiona knew it. Because the exact same thing happened to her. The only difference between the two them was that Misty was still in there.

"I can't do it", Cordelia said in that ghostly voice, which made Fiona's skin crawl. The only time she sounded present was when she screamed and that sound made Fiona want to downright jump out of her skin. "I shouldn't be there."

"You of all people _should_ be there", Misty argued. "C'mon Delia, you don't wanna leave it like this. You loved him. You needa say goodbye." Misty sat down by her, snaked a hand around Cordelia's wrist and pulled her into a sitting position. Cordelia let herself be dragged and she stayed put, hazy eyes somewhat focused on Misty.

"Why do you stay just to watch me lose my mind over the man that keeps us apart?" She asked. "Why aren't you even mad at me?"

Misty gave her half a smile and tugged a strand of Cordelia's hair behind her ear.

"Can't be mad at you for mournin' your husband, Delia. C'mon now, let's get you cleaned up."

Cordelia didn't say more, but let Misty lead her out of bed. Her walk towards the bathroom was slow and dazed, as if devoid of purpose. Until suddenly a look of nausea flickered across her face. She stumbled out of Misty's grasp and ran to the bathroom. Fiona could only see Misty now, standing back, dumbfounded and helpless as Cordelia threw up. The despair was written in block letters on her face.

Fiona couldn't watch any more. She went down stairs and poured herself a morning whiskey. Then she halted. She stood there for a moment, glared at the glass of forgetting potion. It took her several minutes before she could so much as move. She lifted the glass and poured the liquid out into the sink, then called for Spalding.

He stepped right into the kitchen.

"Get rid of this." She shoved the bottle into his arms, before she had a second thought to change her mind. "Empty Hank's cabinet too. I can't have this distraction at a time like this."

He nodded and gave her an encouraging smile.

"Don't do that, you're not my _sponsor_. Just have the house cleared of alcohol by the time we get back." He turned to leave and she changed her mind: "No, wait… Keep that one bottle of the whiskey, but don't tell me, where you hide it. I'll need it to keep level."

Spalding nodded and disappeared.

Fiona sighed and sat down. She missed it already. But she couldn't have that fog in her brain today. Hell was about to break loose.

And it did, as soon as they entered the yard in front of the church. Fiona hadn't seen Harrison Foxx in years, only fought against him through written words and other kinds of faceless exchanges. She hadn't expected the first words from him to be kind and she certainly wasn't disappointed.

He cast one look at Misty and the sorrow in his grey features turned hot with rage.

"How dare you mock my pain this way?" He hissed at Fiona. He didn't spare Misty a second look. "I will not have this homewrecker at my son's funeral! I'm not too pleased with your presence as it is!"

The people around them cast nervous glances their way, but no one interfered. It was a small gathering and most kept away, safe at the entrance of the church, free to look.

Fiona looked back at Misty and Cordelia. Misty didn't seem like she planned to retaliate. She was occupied keeping Cordelia sane. She had managed to get her this far, but Fiona knew it was only the constant physical connection that kept Cordelia on her feet and not crawled up in a corner somewhere. Her gaze was empty, her attention turned inward to whatever flickered on and off in her mind.

Fiona looked back at Harrison. "Cordelia is not well, as you may notice. Misty is the sole reason she as much as got out of bed this morning. If she goes, so does Cordelia. You don't have to like it, but accept it. You will not deny her the goodbye she needs. And if you think I'll let my daughter out of my sight in this condition, you've got another thing coming."

His eyes narrowed. "You expect me to just accept this? Are you out of your mind? She's the reason he's dead!" He made a violent gesture towards Misty, who still did nothing but look back. Her face was impossible to read. Harrison stared at her, and it seemed Misty's lack of response only infuriated him more. He took a step forward. "I should have you ar-"

"That's enough." Fiona stepped in front Misty, made sure she blocked his path. She looked right into Harrison red, raging eyes. "You son is dead, because he downed a bottle of vodka and got behind the wheel. I'm sorry it happened, but that's the truth!"

Harrison looked like he was about to explode, when Cordelia's paper-thin, ghostly voice interrupted them:

"You shouldn't blame Misty, Harrison. Blame me. I'm the one who drove him to drink in the first place."

Fiona stepped aside to look at Cordelia, together with the rest of them. With her floating gaze, she found Harrison's eyes and held them, while her hands desperately held on to Misty's arm.

"You did nothing of the sort, Cordelia", Fiona insisted, but none of them payed any attention to her. Fiona had the odd impression that for a moment she was not there. Harrison stepped closer. His angry posture had softened and Fiona let him. The look in his eyes, when as they flickered to Misty, were full of disgust, but it dissolved when he looked at Cordelia. Personally, Fiona thought the pity was worse.

"Obviously, you never intended for this to happen to my son. To _your_ husband." He gave her hand a hesitant and awkward pat. "Why don't we go find out seats? The service starts soon."

They all walked to the church in silence. Fiona still had the sense that she existed outside their world. She was not a part of the grief and that had pushed her out. Oddly enough, it was Misty who looked back to make sure she followed.

She took a place behind Cordelia, while Misty sat beside her, much to Harrison's evident distaste, but he said nothing. He seemed to prefer pretending she wasn't there. For the few who asked, he explained that she was a sort of caretaker of Cordelia's in this time of crisis and no one objected to this explanation. Fiona decided she could offer him that much. She thought back at her last conversation with Hank and found that she regretted her threats. She hadn't forgotten how big a part he had played in Cordelia's recovery the last time and as much as she wanted him out of the picture, this was too far out.

The priest appeared and the crowd silenced. All the kind words were said and songs sang from a choir in the back. Their voices filled the church with that special kind of celestial atmosphere that Fiona always loathed, but accepted, as it seemed to offer everyone else a scrap of peace.

And finally, Cordelia cried.

O0O

It was a brittle hope, but watching Cordelia cry at the funeral gave Misty faith that a bit of her old self was resurfacing. All her emotions seemed to have sunk into a deep hole inside her, but now some came back to linger just under her skin, the way they always did with her. Tears had a healing way of their own, they always worked like a cleansing flood for Cordelia. A cleansing was long overdue. Cordelia even managed to exchange a few words with a couple of guests and receive condolences, before she started rubbing her temples and both Fiona and Misty took it as a clue she needed to get home. But she ate dinner with them that night. It was as awkward as Misty remembered her childhood dinners, but the look on Fiona's face told her that they could at least agree this was progress. Misty came as far as considering perhaps the medication had started to work.

Until she found Cordelia in the bathroom the next day.

"Delia, you out there?" Misty had been gone for only twenty minutes to buy groceries and found the bedroom empty and the bathroom door closed. The whole house was too quiet and Fiona was nowhere to be found. Misty stepped close to the door with silent careful steps, and listened. On the other side, Cordelia drew heaving, trembling breaths.

Misty thanked God the door wasn't locked and barged in.

The sight, which met her, had her heart falling to the bottom of her stomach, where it turned to ice with the rest of her gut.

Cordelia sat on the edge of the bathtub, fighting to catch her breath, on the verge of hyperventilating. Her thighs were smeared with blood from so many cuts Misty instantly gave up counting. She sat in her underwear and there was a cut above the panty line too, a line of red still in progress. At the end of it lingered a small razor, dangling from Cordelia's trembling fingers. When Misty entered, she looked up, slowly as if drained of energy. Her face was a sick shade of pale and her gaze swam. In it Misty found a plead for help.

She practically threw herself on the floor in front of Cordelia, snapped the razor from her shaking hands and threw it into the bathtub. Cordelia flinched as it hit the side with a metallic clink and slid down to the bottom, out of sight.

"Delia, what the hell are you doin'? Please don't…" She couldn't get more words through her closed throat. Heavy dread pressed onto it, tightened it and the absent look in Cordelia's eyes only added to the pulse, her heart hammered out into her system. She cupped Cordelia's face, forced her to make eye contact. Misty felt her own hands tremble as she did it.

"You gotta stop this, hear me? _Please_. I can mend your skin, but I can't get the real cut."

"They want me to cut deeper", Cordelia whispered, as if she hadn't heard a word Misty said. "It's so dark down here. They say I can't do this. But I'm scared."

"It's okay, darlin'. I'm here. Better get you sealed up quick." The lack of color in her cheeks scared Misty, the feverish sweat too. She didn't wait for Cordelia to give her permission. She kept eye contact, made sure Cordelia didn't pass out on her, while her hands got to work. She could feel the sticky mass of blood against her palms, but ignored it. Cordelia whimpered as she touched the cuts, but didn't push her away. The plead for help still floated somewhere in her eyes.

The panting finally ceased to normal breathing and a little color returned to her face. Misty thought it safe to look down and check that she had them all. All were gone, except the thin line on her stomach. Cordelia was expanding her self-destruction. Misty dragged a thumb over the line, sealed it up. It felt different here. The skin was softer, untouched until now, but Misty felt something else beneath it too. More vibrant skin.

"I need water", Cordelia said.

"'Course." Misty fumbled for the first glass she could find and filled it from the sink. She snarled at her own hands, because they wouldn't stop trembling. She willed her heart to settle down. She had caught it in time, the danger was over now. She handed Cordelia the glass and watched her as she drank it. Tried to convince herself that it was over. It wasn't triumph of avoided disaster, which hung in the air, but rather the dull atmosphere post catastrophe. The silence in which you search for survivors.

When Cordelia sat the glass aside, Misty wetted a towel and kneeled to clean the blood away. Underneath the stream of red was a sealed landscape of mended skin, yet Misty didn't accept that she was healed, until her body was clean. Only now did she realize how red her own hands were. She wiped them in the same towel.

"I could have stopped him", Cordelia said. Her voice sounded a little clearer now. She didn't meet Misty's gaze, but stared at the floor instead. "I should have. My head feels so crammed. I know he did the best he could. And most of the time that was good enough. He was so sweet to me. He has this one blue shirt I really like, but he never wore it unless I told him to. But all I could think was that I couldn't stand if I chose him and you left me again."

"I won't. No matter what."

Cordelia made a faint shake of her head, kept her eyes on the drops of blood on the floor.

"Can't be sure. You wouldn't forgive me if I chose him instead?"

Misty thought about it. It was an impossible scenario now, but it still ached in her chest, considering it. But it wouldn't matter.

"I'd be real sad for a while, but yeah, I'd forgive you eventually."

" _Why?_ "

Despite herself, Misty smiled. She tugged a strand of damp hair behind Cordelia's ear and stroked a thumb over her cheekbone.

"I told you, darlin'. I don't know how to not love you."

Cordelia still didn't look up, but she exhaled a breath that sounded a bit like a sigh of relief.

"Thank you."

Misty stretched up and pressed a careful kiss to her temple. "C'mon, let's get you to bed. You needa get some sleep."

"If I try to sleep they tell me things."

"You gotta try anyway. Hey, look at me." She put a finger under Cordelia's chin and forced her gaze up. At first Cordelia avoided her eyes, looked to the side like a child avoiding a reprimand. Misty waited with forced patience until she finally looked straight. The haze was coming over her eyes again, the clarity had been nothing but a transient moment.

"Will it help if I stay 'till you're asleep?"

"Will you sing?"

"If you want me to."

Cordelia nodded slowly and Misty took it as a sign of permission. She got up and hooked a hand around Cordelia's arm, helped her stand. The slow, dazed walk was still imprinted in Cordelia's steps and she swayed with insecurity – from the recent blood loss, Misty figured. Misty got a better hold of her and guided her to the bed. She didn't bother with clothes but turned the heat up instead. Cordelia had started complaining that her nightgown annoyed her, as if the fabric suddenly felt too scruffy against her skin. Misty pulled up the covers and sat down on the edge of the bed, so she wouldn't disturb Cordelia, when she snuck out later.

Cordelia stared up into the ceiling. A hard look flickered across her face and she said: "The ceiling is dirty. I don't think Spalding knows how to clean it." She paused for a moment and then added: "I shouldn't be with you. Not like this. I don't think I can."

The cold hand returned to Misty's chest, only it squeezed for different reasons. And this was much harder to withstand, because there was no one she could direct her confused anger at. Certainly not Cordelia, even though the words spawned from a dark place inside of her. Misty couldn't let her see the anger and it felt like it choked Misty more with every minute that went by in the silence.

"You can", she said, and tried to keep the quiver out of her voice. Cordelia kept her eyes at the ceiling and Misty grabbed her by her cheeks, forced her head sideways. Their eyes met, but Cordelia's gaze were empty and barely registered it. Misty repeated: "You _can_. 'Cause we're everythin' you and I, Delia. Sisters, friends, lovers, all of it. Pick whatever one you want and I promise to be there. Just please come back to me."

Cordelia shook her head, and Misty let go of her. She returned her gaze to the ceiling. "I can't be with you. I'm useless. Worthless. Some of them sound a bit like my mother."

The blood in Misty's veins threated to boil over. She didn't say anything, because she feared all she had left was yelling. On the floor beneath them, the front door opened and the unmistakable sound of clicking heels reached their ears. Misty swallowed her fury and began to sing _Landslide_. It was just as much to calm herself, as it was to calm Cordelia.

As she sang, her mind circled in a desperate search for a solution. Healing Cordelia's cuts would never fix anything. It would never bring her back. It wasn't enough.

And then an idea blossomed. It was risky, she knew, and terrifying too, but not half as much as it was, watching Cordelia fade away into insanity. She knew she had to try.

O0O

A few minutes before Cordelia put the blade to her skin, Fiona walked down the alley with determined steps. As if one waver would make her change her mind. It just might.

He must have sensed it, because his expression wasn't the typical lazy smile, when it came into light.

"Fiona, are you okay?"

"That's a stupid question to ask people you deal cocaine to." He shrugged as a way of speaking, but worry came into his eyes.

"Something happened. I can see it in your face. What's the matter?"

"I need to stop this. The drugs. I need my head clear and I need you to help me, because I am not going to a goddamn clinic."

He was surprised, she could tell that much. "You do realize that asking your drug dealer to help you quit is a very unconventional way to go about it", he said in a careful voice.

"Well it's a good thing I'm not just a client to you then, is it not? Or was that just salesmanship on your part?" Her snapping at him was not an unusual thing, but he looked shocked anyway. It was the first time Fiona had ever confronted him directly about this matter. It was always just flirting between the lines of a well-rehearsed routine.

At last, he shook his head with a solemn expression. "It wasn't."

"Good. So if you do care, you will either help me or get the hell out of my life. I don't care about the money you lose, we can figure that out later, if you insist."

"I would never", Cometh said in his low, gentle voice. "Comfort shouldn't be a paid service."

"I'm not looking for _comfort_ , I want you to make sure I can't get hold of any of that", she waved at his saxophone case. She wanted to snap at him some more, tell him to wipe that pitiful expression off his face, but he took one step closer and there was something about this tentative move, that made her throat tighten. Suddenly she wanted so badly to confess everything, maybe cling to him and feel the warmth of him. His goddamn comfort was getting under her skin already.

"Perhaps if you told me what's bothering you, I can help with that too. I've been worried ever since that strange fellow led you away."

Fiona scoffed. "I told you not to be. And you can't. It's my daughter and I need to stay sharp for her, because she's in deeper than she's ever been and _that's_ saying something. Christ, even Misty's at loss for ideas and if _she_ can't, then I don't know…" Cometh listened without a word. He likely didn't have a clue, what she was talking about, but Fiona couldn't worry about that too. She just had to get it off her chest and before she knew it, she was spilling the whole story, backwards and with a voice thick with tears. She refused to let him see her cry them and so they pressed to her throat, her palate, making her words muffled and stupid, but she talked through it. At one point, he snuck an arm around her and she found herself pressed to him. He was warm and sturdy and he coaxed the last bit of the story out of her.

"It's gonna be okay, sweetheart, you'll see. I'll help you in any way that I can, you have my word." Cometh made soothing strokes up and down her arms and for a moment, she was calmed. She didn't even have it in her to call him out on the nicknaming. She sighed against his chest, allowed herself to enjoy the embrace for just a moment.

That was until she felt him bend down and place a kiss above her cheekbone.

She pushed him away.

"What's this now? Taking advantage of a woman in misery? That's low."

He didn't look hurt, which she would have expected. Rather, there was a look of patience in his features, as if he was staring at some adorable lunatic. Fiona found herself briefly speculating, if this was how Hank or Misty looked at her daughter. Or if she did that herself sometimes. She hoped not.

Then Cometh said: "I was hoping we could still use the word 'comfort'."

Fiona scoffed. "Comfort, is that your new favorite word?"

Cometh only gave her a smile. "Do you feel better?"

Fiona didn't answer. But she did and she had a sneaking suspicion he knew that.

"So you'll help me stay clean?"

"Of course. I never touch it myself either. I'll stop bringing it and I'll escort you on your trips to the city, so you won't be otherwise tempted. Perhaps we'll even get to chat."

"It will have to be in a place without alcohol too."

"Naturally."

"Good." Fiona took a moment to look at his face, ponder if she wanted more of that embrace. She ended up taking a step back and he let her. "I have to get back to my daughter now. I will… Call you."

"I look forward to it", he said with a smile. Fiona left.

When she entered the house, it was quiet at first. It gave her a moment to absorb her decision. It felt like a loss, even though it shouldn't. And it was the worst goddamn time to go into withdrawal, but was it really better to keep floating off on a cloud and let Misty handle the job, she should have mastered long ago? She didn't think so.

It that sense it was a relief to have Cometh agree to help her. No, more than that, it made her happy in a way she hadn't been in a long time. And she felt awful for standing here like a some love struck teenager, while her daughter was losing her mind. Fiona scoffed, sighed at herself. This must one of the battles of the war Cordelia fought everyday; feeling awful when good things finally happen. Another rotten inheritance.

Fiona's questionable peace was disturbed not long after, when Misty came down the stairs. She was angry, that much was obvious even before she entered the room. Fiona sat in her chair, waiting.

She almost jumped out of it, when Misty came in. Never before had she seen her this furious. She just stood there for a few seconds and the rage came off her like waves of heat in cold weather; Fiona could almost see it bending the air. Her breathing was slow and barely controlled and the corners of her eyes blinked with tears.

"Are you alright?" Fiona knew it was provocative, but she'd rather Misty started yelling, so she wouldn't have to admit that the woman was scaring her slightly.

"You. Are the worst. Mama. In. The _world_." Her words came out through clenched teeth, slow and controlled as if she would attack the second she slipped. Fiona stood. She felt too exposed, sitting there, looking over her shoulder.

"I'm sure you're right", she said. She shot another nervous glance at Misty and the steam of rage around her. "Feel free to yell at me. Or throw something."

"It'll wake her up", she said, as if they were arguing beside a sleeping baby. "You know what she did while you were gone?" A surge of icy cold rushed through Fiona, clenched tight inside her chest. She trusted Misty with Cordelia's life, but now she saw the most horrible scenarios flash before her eyes.

"Is she okay? What hap-"

"What the hell do you _think_?" Misty snarled. Fiona was just about to react to the panic in her chest, when Misty added: "She's fine now."

"What happened?" Fiona asked again.

"I came home five minutes late, 'cause I thought you were still here, and found her in the bathroom. Cuttin' herself up. She was almost in shock, when I found her. I got it stopped, but she was about to cut her stomach too this time. I got her to bed and know what she said? She said the voices talk just like _you_."

Fiona drew a heavy breath. Grasped the arm of the chair for support. She thought her parenting had hit rock bottom long ago, but this… God, she deserved to switch places with Cordelia.

"I thought Spalding…" She couldn't even finish the sentence. He could look after her, but what good was he really? You can't mime a 911 emergency call.

"What the hell kinda mama leaves her daughter alone like this?!" It wasn't quite yelling, more an agitated snarl, but it was just as forceful and twice as frightening. Her eyes shone with fury and with her lips curled back over her teeth, Fiona thought she looked like a wild wolf, ready to lunge for her throat. "What's wrong with you?!"

"I couldn't…"

"All you had to do was watch her! But you're afraid to even be near her, ain't you?"

Fiona couldn't take it anymore. She broke down, straight to the floor and the tears from before couldn't be stopped this time. "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry. Oh God, I don't know how to handle this, I'm sorry."

"Ain't me you gotta apologize to", Misty said, her voice hard and merciless.

The sobs came out troubled, like retching, and it hurt her throat. Fiona hated crying, but right now she hated herself more. Maybe the humiliation of crying in front of Misty would serve as punishment.

"But I should. I put it all on your shoulders. I should have had her admitted, have her put in care of professionals. It's too much, but I wouldn't see it. I'm so sorry, Misty."

Misty said nothing, and Fiona cried until she had to stop, because she couldn't breathe. She leaned back against the coffee table, felt the edge of it dig in under her shoulder blades. Out the corner of her eye, she saw Spalding standing by the doorframe, probably because he heard his name. She ignored him. She wanted to yell at him, fire him on the spot for letting this happen, but really, was it fair to blame him?

"I may have an idea", Misty suddenly said. Fiona's head snapped up. Misty was calm again, or as calm as can be. Her reluctance towards her plan shone through, or maybe it was still her disgust with Fiona. She wasn't sure.

"What idea?"

"I'm not sure it's good."

"I don't care. Do whatever you need to save my daughter from herself. You know her best. Is it me? Should I leave, will that help?"

Misty shook her head. "No. She needs you, despite… yeah. You need to stay here." She stopped, sighed as if making one last internal argument, before she said: "Okay, I'll do it. I'll heal you."


	29. Chapter 29

Fiona thought she might be gaping. The tears on her cheeks were still wet and she could still feel the anger eluding from Misty beneath her calm, less glowing now, but still hot. At first, she thought it was a joke, only Misty didn't make jokes. Sarcasm and cruel games were never Misty's style; she was too barbaric for that.

"You'll cure me? Really?" It sounded much harsher than Fiona intended, but a sudden sense of fright had risen in her throat. The opportunity had jumped her so suddenly she had had no time to dread the consequences, if Misty's abilities wasn't enough. Now she only had seconds to fear it and pressed in such a small space, it felt too much to handle.

"I'll try", Misty said. She snarled her words and her eyes were still hard. She was no less reluctant to help than before, which made Fiona wonder just what sort of plan she had in mind. But she didn't get much time to ponder it, before Misty interrupted her thoughts. "On one condition. That you keep yourself healthy. You quit all those self-destructive habits."

"I just quit the cocaine tonight", Fiona said. Or she hoped so. She didn't know if Misty even knew of these drugs or not, and her face was unreadable. If not, she hoped it at least showed effort.

"What 'bout the drinkin'?"

"I'm trying."

"You quit or I ain't touchin' you", she snarled. She crossed her arms to emphasize her words. Fiona sneered at the attitude, but didn't comment. As much as she wanted to retaliate, she was afraid Misty would change her mind back again.

"Easy, I've cut down, but believe me, withdrawal will not help Cordelia at the moment."

"Fine. But you'll quit it, when there's room. Otherwise me healin' you, will be for nothin'. The smokin'?"

"Don't push it."

Misty bared her teeth. Fiona gave in and promised she would try.

The swamp witch loosened up then. And she looked like a witch there in the half light of the room, as the look of concentration crept onto her face. There was a special atmosphere humming around her, when she did that. She had only once touched Fiona with her powers and that was almost twenty years ago, yet Fiona still remembered everything vividly. She could still hear the snapping of her own bones as Misty put her wrist back together and she recalled the strange warm comfort, she had felt amidst the panic. Now she felt uneasy, remembering that bone-snap, but she needed this and she resisted the urge to back away.

"What do I need to do?"

"Stand still", Misty just said. Her eyes were not on Fiona's face, but her abdomen. She was sure Misty had never had one lecture on human anatomy, yet she put her hands directly on Fiona's liver without a moment's hesitation. She divided blouse from skirt and placed her hand on Fiona's bare skin. Fiona gave away a small gasp as the heat started flowing into her flesh and for a few moments, heat was all she could feel. Diffuse, but strong, as it pulsed through her cancer eaten liver and rid it of disease.

Then she felt it. The strength coming back to her body, the exhaustion exorcised by whatever this thing was. Fiona looked up at Misty from their point of contact, at which she had stared with wide eyes, and took in her concentrated look. She could see the exchange happen in Misty's face too. Her eyes started to flutter, her face grew tired, her body stood less secure on its feet.

Misty wavered, then lost her footing. Fiona caught her by her upper arm, before she collapsed. She did so without thinking about it and now, as she helped Misty back on her feet, she stared at her own hand with amazement. Had she done the same thing just a minute ago, they would have both tumbled to the floor.

Misty blinked a few times and then looked at Fiona. She looked like the tired one now, but her strength always came back fast, Fiona knew.

"That should buy you a decade", she said slowly. "Couldn't cure it, but cut it back. It's the best I can do."

"It's- I- Thank you, Misty. Thank you." The words sounded weird on her tongue. But she said them one more time and only now did she dare asking: "What made you change your mind?"

"Don't think I've started likin' you", she said first. The force was right back in her voice and Fiona was relieved, despite the anger. Misty took a step back, putting distance between them again, and said: "I needa try somethin' and in case it goes wrong, I need you to not die anytime soon."

 _How sweet_ , Fiona thought to say, but didn't. "What are you planning to do?" She demanded instead. Now that she felt so much better, it was hard not to get on edge at the tone in Misty's voice.

She anticipated that Misty would refuse to tell her, better yet, just walk away without a word. Instead, her face softened, and Fiona thought she might catch a glimpse of unease, not to say fear.

"I'm gonna undo it. She wouldn't be like this, if Hank hadn't died."

Fiona gaped again. "What, you're going to _raise_ him from the _dead_? Do you think you're some actual goddamn witch?"

"I'm gonna try." She paused and then looked at Fiona with an earnest expression. The anger was almost gone now. "I don't know what's gonna happen to me. If I don't come back, just tell her again that I love her. Make sure she gets it. I want her to live again and there's no one else I'd ever do this for."

"I don't doubt it", Fiona admitted and resisted the urge to beg Misty not to go. It was the strangest feeling, wanting her gone for so many years and then not, when it finally came to the end of the line. But she felt it even so, because without her, Cordelia was lost and Fiona had a bad feeling about this plan. "I'll tell her", she promised.

Misty nodded. "Thanks."

Then she turned around, walked out of the door and closed it behind her. Spalding appeared in the doorway as the door closed. He looked at Fiona, then at the door, then back at Fiona. There was a question, a wish in his eyes.

"You can go with her, if you want", Fiona told him. He gave her a humble nod and then ran out the door.

Fiona's first impulse was to get a glass of whiskey. Then she remembered that she had made Spalding throw most of it away and hide the rest. She only had what was necessary to stay clear, to avoid withdrawal. This time, she would have to handle it without. A smoke would do.

Fiona pulled it out and looked at it for a while. Misty's words echoed in the back of her head as she rolled it between her fingers. Getting herself a new kind of cancer from these would definitely make it all for nothing. Not to mention be incredibly stupid.

She found her lighter and lit it. Quitting three addictions in one day was too much to ask.

She was sitting in her armchair, the cigarette put out and the smoke evaporated into the air, when she heard steps on the stairs. She got up at once and found Cordelia on her way to the kitchen.

"Darling, what are you doing up?" Fiona said. Cordelia squinted her eyes at the sound, but didn't answer. She slouched her way to the kitchen sink and filled a glass with water.

After she had emptied it, she stood there for a moment, staring into the wall as if something was written there. She squinted her eyes again and lifted a hand to rub her temple. A disgusting kind of sadness crept into Fiona's throat, as she watched her broken daughter fight the voices in her head.

"Can I do anything for you?" Fiona offered.

Cordelia turned, slowly, to look at her. The light in her eyes was gone and the circles under them were turning black. Her hair was greasy and knotted, her skin an unhealthy grey tone. A thin layer of sweat lay on her forehead. The sight of her was torture.

"You're better", Cordelia suddenly said and it abruptly ripped Fiona out of her miserable thoughts.

"What you do mean?"

"You're not sick anymore. Did Misty heal you? Where is Misty?"

"How did you know?" Here she thought she had managed to stuff her disease away, before she was forced to tell Cordelia, but all the work for nothing. So Misty had-

"I just know. Just like you know about me."

Fiona didn't know what to say. Her daughter's exhausted voice terrified her. Before she could put words to anything, Cordelia grimaced again and started rubbing her temples with a synchronized movement of a building panic. She crouched down, sat on the floor, staring at it with frightened eyes. Fiona crouched down in front of her, but she couldn't get contact.

"Come on, Cordelia. Please snap _out_ of it. You can if you want to. You've done it before."

Cordelia tilted her head to look up at her. The gaze that met Fiona looked almost possessed. Mad and angry, but wordless. Misty had cut her nails, so she couldn't scratch herself, but her fingers did the motion anyway.

Fiona reached out to take her hands down, but Cordelia whined and moved away.

"Cordelia please…" Tears stung in her throat again, but she swallowed them. She sighed heavily and leaned back against the door of the cupboard. "I don't know how to fix you."

When she looked again, the possessed look in Cordelia's eyes seemed to have faded a bit. But the dark circles went nowhere, and the haunted expression stayed too. She looked like she sat on the bottom of some dark, cold ocean.

"I need to tell you something", Fiona said. "Explain something to you. Best do it now, when it can't get any worse, right? Weeks ago, you asked me why I didn't tell you that Misty was back and I meant what I said then. But it wasn't the whole reason. The whole reason I didn't tell you was because I was mad at her for leaving you behind. Same reason I didn't tell you her mother was sick. I wanted you to be as mad at her as I was. And if you… if you didn't have her and you didn't have Myrtle, then maybe I could be your number one. I never was. But it's the cheat way to become it, don't think I don't know that." Fiona sighed again and looked at her daughter again. The anger had crept back into her stare and it made her look twice as insane, but Fiona thought she probably deserved this look.

"I don't know what to do with you, Cordelia. I know I failed you as a mother and I'm sorry."

Cordelia just looked at her with that haunted, angry stare. "I guess you're useless too then."

There was nothing Fiona could argue to contradict her words.

O0O

Misty thought it sounded like her steps grew louder the closer she got. As if her racing heartbeat manifested in her feet, making them thunder against the ground. She tried to ignore it. She couldn't back out now.

Spalding walked half a step behind her. He was the best companion she could wish for on a night like this, because she had no room for words. His mute presence comforted her. He hadn't questioned her once, only caught up to her and followed her out here, somehow sensing that she might need his help. For that, she was grateful.

The cemetery came into view and Misty drew in a deep breath. She cleansed her system, shut the fear out and went in.

They walked along the lines of graves, some beautiful, some left completely unnoticed. As if forgotten by the ones who put them there. Their bodies turned to dust, the memories of them scattered like a handful of gravel in the wind. Misty hoped she wouldn't fade that easy. There weren't many people on this earth, who would remember her. And the only one that mattered might be too afraid to try.

"Please don't let her forget me, Spalding", Misty said in a low voice, as if to not disturb the peaceful sleep of the dead. Her voice shook a little.

She felt his hand on her arm. Misty looked up into his sympathetic gaze. He had never touched her before. He used to be afraid of her, when she was a child, but somewhere along the line, he had realized she wasn't as frightening as the rest of the world. She smiled at him and he smiled back.

"Let's go find him."

They found the grave by the end of the fifth row. He was buried in a coffin, on his father's orders. He had wanted to move him back to Boston, but Fiona insisted he stayed here, where Cordelia could visit him, for which Misty was now grateful. Fiona had also wanted him cremated. Yet, here he lay, whole beneath the layers of grass and gravel. Beneath a small bed of flowers. They were sent on Cordelia's behalf, but she hadn't been here once. The mere suggestion made her mind snap into one of those places far from reality.

Hank's grave was well kept and much newer than the surrounding ones. Misty didn't read his stone. She only stared at the ground, gathering her strength. Spalding left her for a while and came back with shovels. She didn't ask, where he had gotten them from, but accepted one in silence.

They started digging.

It took long. It was much harder work than Misty had expected and something about the atmosphere made it harder, the time longer and the tools heavier. Misty thought someone might have had time to find her by now, if it wasn't for Spalding's help. He had become older, frailer, but he gave all he had. She didn't fully understand why, but he did.

The sound of the spade hitting wood cut through the silent air. The realization of the inevitable moment coming closer rolled over Misty like a fog. This was not the kind of haze she was used to, it was a numbing one. Close to what she felt like when healing, but not quite so. It was stronger. It was as if her body knew she planned to use it for all it had. Misty barely noticed it, when Spalding got the coffin open and started dragging Hank out. He signaled for her to help and she crawled close, hooked a hand around a cold, dead wrist and hauled Hank up. Even this was a strength she didn't know she had. She no longer felt weak from healing Fiona. She wasn't sure she felt anything. Or perhaps it was that she was feeling so many things they yelled all at once and drowned each other out.

Hank's wrist fell the ground the moment she let it go and there he lay, limp and pale and bent the wrong way. His spine was broken, she knew. She could see it, but his body didn't tell her much else. Her ability had never communicated with a dead body before, it didn't know the language. She would have to go in blind.

Spalding sat down somewhere behind her, but Misty barely noticed. The scarce sounds of the night faded out of her consciousness. The smells disappeared, the cool breeze didn't touch her. There was only her and Hank now.

He looked a little angry. Even as death had smoothed out every crease in his forehead, he looked upset. Perhaps it was, that this was the only expression Misty knew of his. Even in death, he was mad at her for existing. Misty promised herself she wouldn't be mad at him, if they switched places. She wasn't doing this out of spite after all.

She pushed his white shirt open and then there was no more room for thoughts or fears. The trance took over. She felt it like an internal vibration in the palm of her hands. And it spread, she could feel it spread. She had to give everything this time.

Misty put her hands on Hank's ice-cold chest.

She almost gasped in shock at the intensity. It sucked at her, her every cell. It made her dizzy at once, but she ignored it. She focused on the energy exchange between the two surfaces of skin. She looked at his chest and she could almost see the flow of life. It even made her smile. Her muscles started to tremble, her eyelids grew heavy, but she kept the corner of her mouth hooked on that grin. This smile she wanted to keep, even though she felt weaker by the second, because it only told her that it was working. And she hoped this would be enough to get Cordelia back. Maybe she would see this smile and know that it was okay. Misty clenched her jaw, closed her eyes and pushed the life out of herself, into Hank, until the dark consumed her senses.

O0O

Heat was the first thing Hank felt, as he drew his first breath after death. It was a violent, wheezing breath that opened up the tight tube of his throat, filled the lungs that wasn't meant to hold air again. The heat blazed upwards through him, travelled up his spine and raced underneath the surface of his skin. It burned behind his eyes, but it didn't hurt. It was the most comforting heat he had ever felt. So smooth and good, that for a moment it was all he could focus on.

Then slowly, the heat faded and he felt coolness touching the outside of his body. The sound of wind reached his ears. Tickles of grass against his neck. Cold breaths of wind in his lungs. He drew a few of those cold breaths, dazed and confused at the thought that he might be outside and not in his bed sleeping.

Then he remembered.

Flashes of headlights blinked against his closed eyes, sounds of car tires screeching against the road pierced his ears, his own halted panic welled up in his chest one more time. His eyes snapped open and he sat up.

It was night around him, but a different night. There was clouds and drizzle of rain that night, but this one was clear. He could count stars. He could smell; he never could that when he was drunk. And he had been. He had tried to drown his despair in booze, but it hadn't worked, because his emotions lunged out of his throat anyway. He had directed all this fury at Cordelia and then he had left her, hoping she hurt just as much as he did.

He didn't hurt now. He didn't feel anything, only a slight confusion.

Hank blinked a few times and the night came into focus. He was in the middle of the graveyard it seemed. He had only been here a couple of times, but the tombstones were hard to misplace.

He didn't hurt. And he didn't understand that, because that car crash should have killed him. It should have crushed him like an insect caught between the ground and a boot. Yet he felt intact. He felt comfortable and warm. He felt that heat, just now disappearing from his flesh. He felt good.

The thoughts started pressing to his brain. _I was dead_ , he kept thinking. He didn't know what made him think it, but he felt that it was true. He just couldn't explain why that was so.

There was a ruffling in the grass behind him and it made him look around.

His eyes fell on Misty and he flinched.

She lay beside him, curled around him almost, as if she had fallen right beside him. She was unconscious and she looked oddly fragile. There was just the faintest hint of a smile at her lips, like the exhausted grin of some kind of triumph. Hank looked around, more confused than ever and his eyes found Spalding, the weird old butler of the Goode house. It was his ruffling, Hank had heard.

"What-" He didn't get more out. He throat felt so tight, as if he was trying to speak through a paper filter. It took effort just to exhale.

Spalding didn't look at him though. He only looked at Misty, tiptoed closer to her, carefully and with a sad face. Hank noticed this, when he came closer.

"What hap… happened?" Hank got out. Only now did Spalding look at him. The look in the old man's eyes was hard to read and it didn't linger. He shook his head and crouched beside Misty. A quivering hand reached out and touched Misty's wrist, pressed a thumb to her pulse point. He made the face of a whimper and Hank's dazed mind fought to connect with reality.

"Please tell me… what happened?"

Spalding let go of Misty's hand and looked up. With an unsteady hand he pointed first at Hank and then at a pile of dirt. Beside the dirt was a hole in the ground and a tombstone poked up behind the it.

"I was dead, wasn't I?" He still didn't know what made him say it. But Spalding nodded.

"The car crash killed me?" He voice was coming back, he felt. His throat opened up and filled with cool air.

The butler nodded again.

"But I don't understand… How am I alive now?"

Spalding sniffled and pointed at Misty.

Hank looked at her, lying there, still and muted. Her hands stretched out from her body, towards him. Cordelia called her a healer…

It made sense. In some unearthly, twisted way, this all made sense to him. He couldn't collect any thoughts to argue against it at least. It wasn't just talking through a paper filter. It was thinking through it too. Feeling thought it. Everything felt slower, less sharp.

"Why would she do that?" Was all he could think to ask. Spalding didn't offer him any answer to this. Hank looked at Misty again, leaned closer to her. He reached out and touched her arm. She felt ice cold against his warm skin. He didn't know if it was because of this supernatural heat in his body or not, but he couldn't feel a pulse.

"I need to get her back to Cordelia", Hank said. It was the only thing he thought important now. It was as if his thoughts only came through one at a time, lined up according to some plan that had been decided for him.

Spalding pointed at the hole. He got up, picked up a shovel and started shoveling the dirt back into the hole. He obviously had more thoughts in his head than Hank. When Hank didn't move, Spalding stopped again. He pointed at Hank, then at Misty and then waved them off.

Hank nodded.

"I'll carry her back."

With that, Hank got to his feet and then bent down to pick up Misty. It felt weird doing so. All he knew of her was fighting with her in the swamp and hating her from a distance for invading his home and stealing his wife. Now, this didn't make him feel half as angry about having to carry her, as he would have thought. It only made him feel weird.

He stood up and cradled her into his arms the best he could. Her head rested against his shoulder at first, but rolled off as he started walking. She didn't look wild and fierce like this. Very little was left of the woman he had met in the woods, now that she was this close. And she was light. That notion made her seem even more vulnerable to him. He realized she had a childlike quality about her, which became more evident now that her facial expression was smoothed out and the hostile stance taken away. She had a tiny frame and the strength he had sensed in her before, the power that eluded from her, was gone now. She wasn't frightening at all. He felt odd about that. No, actually, he didn't feel anything about this in fact and that was the odd thing. His emotions were stuck on the paper filter between him and the rest of the world.

As he walked through the cold night towards his home, the last of the strange sensation of heat left his body. But Misty stayed cold. It worried him, but only because he thought of Cordelia. She would be scared. Hank had the sense that even though it was Misty's body in his arms, it was Cordelia's life he held in his grasp.

O0O

Cordelia stared out the window of the living room. The night was still black out there, behind the glass. Windows made sense to her. Windows were portals. She sometimes tried to imagine that her mind was on the inside of a window and if the stars would shine just a little brighter, maybe she could find her way out.

But her mind was nothing but a black hole and black holes have no windows. No amount of staring through glass would change that.

The walls of her hole were full of dried blood and claw marks from all the times she had had to fight her way out of here. She rarely fell this deep and there weren't as much battle on the walls down here. This time she felt no urge to scratch her fingers bloody to escape. Why bother? She was the iron ball in a chain wrapped around the ankle of everyone she loved, she was the weight on their shoulders. A weight heavy enough to kill. A force strong enough to drive her husband into the arms of death. All because she could not choose. Who would it be next? Her mother? Misty?

Misty was a star in her clouded sky and sometimes she shone just bright enough for Cordelia to consider fighting. But it wasn't enough. _"With her, I don't need fixing"_ , Cordelia had told Hank once. What a silly lie that was. She knew she needed fixing now. She just didn't think anyone should bother trying. You don't fix murderesses, you lock them up. This house worked just fine like that. The voices liked this place better than the hospital, they didn't scream as much here. She could serve her sentence in this place. The house no longer felt like home. It didn't feel like anything. Just a hollow container to sleep in, to wander around in. With windows to gaze through, just to keep her hoping. The voices loved it, when she started to hope.

The front door opened and hasty steps ran down the hallway. There was a time where Cordelia could tell the people she knew apart by their footsteps, but abilities like these faded away in her black hole. She could tell voices apart, most of the time, faces too, but much else became a mass of the unknown.

There were scrambles in the kitchen, a glass being sat down with force and violent pushing of a chair. More steps. Cordelia remembered getting up to drink water earlier, but she couldn't remember how she got in here. She wanted to wait for Misty, because without her, even going to sleep felt like an impossible quest to conquer. She was too vulnerable at the threshold to sleep. Too many thoughts could take shape and hurt her.

She heard someone exclaim something. It sounded like her mother. And she thought she heard another familiar voice, a ghost of the recent past. Somehow it coaxed her hazed mind a little closer to the surface.

"Cordelia, get out here!" It was Fiona calling for her. Her voice was remarkably shrill and the urgency of it cut through. Cordelia felt for the edges of the chair, got to her feet, wavering slightly. She made her feet work through the haze and carry her to the entrance hall.

Fiona appeared in the doorway, rushing to get her to see whatever it was. She vaguely noticed Spalding standing by the door to the kitchen, staring down the hall. She followed his gaze.

Hank.

She heard herself gasp. He was here. For a moment, she only saw his face and the whispers in her mind scattered as immense relief bathed her system like a cleansing flood. He was alive. His eyes were alive. She didn't understand how at first and she was too shocked to even notice what he was carrying.

"H… Hank?"

He wasn't smiling.

Cordelia's mind finally took time to scan the rest of him and she looked down at the body in his arms. And she saw her. Her pale face wiped clean of expression, her eyes closed. Her arms and legs hanging limp from Hank's grasp. Unmoving.

A pain so deep and so sudden, it momentarily made it impossible for her to breathe, ripped her chest open and clenched around her fragile heart. She grasped for support, so faint she could fall into death right then and there. Arms caught her and held her steady, but she didn't register who they belonged too. She only stared at Misty and for the first time in weeks, her mind was painfully clear.

"N… Misty, no…"

Her whole body blazed with hot and cold. Heat rushed up into her throat, made her nauseous and she could barely feel the rest of her body. There was ice in her brain. She tried to move forward and the arms, which held her, helped her closer. Each trembling step made Misty seem less real.

Cordelia desperately searched Hank's eyes.

"Tell me she isn't…"

There was none of the hatred left in his gaze. "I don't know."

Cordelia looked down at Misty again, looked for something, _anything_ , in Misty's face that could save her from this feeling she had. For a second she even wished for the haze to come back, but now it had been blasted way, her mind shocked back into focus. Cordelia reached out a hand, one trembling so bad she could barely control it, and put it to Misty's face and neck. Her skin was ice cold. Ice cold and still.

It was this above all, which hauled her back to reality. Cruel, when all she wanted now was to drown in darkness. It woke her up in the most agonizing way imaginable, every nerve screaming out, a sob wrenching from her throat and tears springing in its wake. The sound of it bounced off the walls and back to her, but this time there was no fog to shield her.

She was wide open.


	30. Chapter 30

Everything moved in an odd way, as if it happened in some parallel world to Cordelia's. She watched Hank carry Misty's body to the living room and put her down on the couch, while she herself floated behind him. She didn't feel her feet touch the floor, she didn't hear the words the other's said. The only thing she heard was the sound of her own crying, so violent it hurt her throat already. It rang in her ears, when she kneeled beside the couch, her vision blurred from the tears. But the sight of Misty still cut through her brain like a razor, so sharp it send waves of aching cramps through her chest. She reached out to touch Misty's cold skin again. Maybe she could warm it, bring it back to life.

She put a hand to Misty's cheek. Her messy curls tickled the back of Cordelia's hand and it made her chest tighten with cramps again. She heaved for air to cry more. She moved her hand to Misty's neck, felt for life. Found none.

"Mom, I can't feel her pulse." She thought her voice sounded foreign, as if it didn't come from her own mouth, but appeared somewhere close to her ears. Like someone else was speaking for her, a stranger of her own making.

Her mother's hand appeared, placed it over Cordelia's.

"Your hand is shaking. Let me try."

"No, don't touch her!"

Other hands held her shoulders, gently insisting as they pulled her away.

"Let her try, Cordelia." It sounded like Hank. She had forgotten he was here. He wasn't alive a minute ago, but now he was, only it felt like everything was dead around her and she couldn't sort it out anymore. Hank's arms pulled her up and into a tight embrace. She cried against his chest, clung to him with what strength she had left.

His warmth felt so good. She wished she could clear a space in her mind for this feeling of comfort alone, but there was no room. It was all screaming and crumbling and breaking apart inside her.

He shushed her with a gentle, low sound, like he used to when she got upset. He ran a hand over her hair and kissed the top of her head.

"I'm relieved you're here", Cordelia whispered into his chest. "I'm so glad you're alive." It was all she could offer him. Only silence followed and she tried to breathe into it. But breathing felt so useless.

"Anything?" She heard him ask. She didn't hear an answer.

"Can't we call an- an ambulance?" Cordelia asked. She didn't dare move and cried the words into Hank's shirt. It smelled as if it hadn't been aired out in a long time. Like it had been kept in a sealed little room for weeks. A coffin. Because Hank had just come back from the dead, she reminded herself. The thought made her want to laugh, but then she remembered the price and her chest cramped again.

"You know the hospital can't help her. This is not mortal damage."

Fiona's words made her push out of Hank's embrace and turn around. She didn't look long at the regret in her mother's eyes, but looked at Misty instead. If she was losing her, she needed to take in what she could while there was time.

It was different, being faced with the body. Hank had vanished into nothingness, for a while taking her mind with him. Faced with Misty's cold body, witnessing the life seeping out of her, Cordelia was able to cry. And cry she did again, when she kneeled a second time. And she was afraid to stop, because when she did, a new, much deeper and much more terrifying black hole waited for her. One she would never escape. She knew this beyond a shadow of doubt.

She looked at Misty's face and for a moment, she thought there was a smile playing at her lips.

The smile was too much. It couldn't end like this. New waves ached, new tears came, while she fisted her hand into Misty's dress, right over her chest. It felt like her heart was beating, when Cordelia's hands trembled atop her chest like this.

 _Please don't leave me,_ she thought. _You're right. We are everything. So you can't leave me._

There was movement beside her. Motions of the outside world and someone stepped closer.

"Did she cry over me like this?"

Fiona answered, before Cordelia could say anything: "She did something much worse and is now _really_ the time to beg for attention?"

There was no answer. Instead Hank kneeled beside her. She could feel his eyes on her, but she couldn't tear herself away from Misty's face.

"You love her", Hank said. It wasn't a question. There was a tone of finality in his voice, a determination she didn't recognize in him. It felt like an end and she couldn't handle any more ends, so she kept her eyes on Misty.

"Yes", she only whispered. She could sense him nodding slowly, gathering himself.

"But you still love me. You keep saying so. Do you love her more than you love me?"

"This is not the time to be cruel, Hank!"

"Look at me, Cordelia." His voice was hard, but not without emotion. The determination was still there in his tone and it scared her. She looked at him. His eyes were like his voice, hard and determined, but loaded with emotion underneath. "Do you love _her_ more than _me_? That's all I want to know."

"I love her more than anything", Cordelia finally admitted.

He nodded again. She expected him to yell, or that his eyes would water up, but it was only that nod. And a sigh. "She makes you whole, doesn't she? I've never known you without that hole in your chest, but now that I've seen you two together… It's her spot, right?"

Cordelia sniffled and didn't bother to stop the tears from running. "It is. I'm sorry."

He sighed again. "Yeah. Me too."

Cordelia looked at Misty again, caressed her cold cheek and tried to breathe through the cramps. They were eating at her gut too. The darkness of the night was starting to take solid form around her. Opening up beneath her, ready to swallow her. She knew what it meant and she would at least attempt to break one chain, before it was too late. She forced herself to look up at Hank again.

"There's a new black hole coming", she told him. "I won't get out. You should go now, before you get caught in it too. You don't deserve to be stuck here with me."

"Cordelia-"

"I mean it. You know how I was back then, with Myrtle. This will be much worse. Don't waste your life on me."

"But Cor-"

"I think my daughter is trying to tell you, that you've finally overstayed your welcome, Hank."

Hank looked up at a spot behind Cordelia's field of vision with an acidic gaze. He received no response, of what Cordelia could hear, but looked at Cordelia again. "Are you sure?"

She gave him a nod. "I am. It will be no life for either of us. But maybe I should tell you…"

"Don't", he said. "Not if it gets me stuck."

"Okay."

"Okay", he repeated. He leaned in, pressed a kiss to her forehead and got up. "I better leave now then. Goodbye, Cordelia."

She tried to smile. "Goodbye. I love you."

"Yeah. I loved you too."

Then he turned and walked out of the living room. She only heard a few minutes of ruffling around in a distance, before the front door opened and closed again.

Silence. It almost echoed. Rung with the whispers of the voices about to creep in again. She was really alone now.

As if reading her mind, Fiona came in her view, sat down in the armchair a few feet away. Her arm lingered on the armrest by Misty's head.

"It was mean of you to say that", Cordelia told her.

"He needed a push out the door. It's better for all. Now what about… Misty? Should we-"

"Give me more time. I can't do it yet. I can't say…" She couldn't even say it out loud. She clutched Misty's dress tighter. Misty's body moved slightly by Cordelia's trembling grip, but her face remained expressionless and pale.

"She could still wake up. We don't know how her body works. She's not all silent, maybe…"

"Don't give me hope. Just wait."

So they did. Hours went, as the darkness grew tighter around Cordelia, colored the floor black underneath her, formed a gate in a distance. The light emerged outside, but the breaking of dawn was something that happened to everyone else. Cordelia was stuck in the never-ending night. She couldn't think. Her mind went in a cruel empty loop, reminding her of what she knew already. _She's dying. She's dead. She was the one good thing in your life and now you've taken her life too_. The voices would gain strength from this, when she entered the hole again.

Every breath brought the dark closer, every tick of the clock added shape to it. The hole expanded and a dark man stood waiting at the top of it now, guarding her descend into it. It was Papa Legba, smiling, welcoming her. He tipped his hat, but she shook her head at him.

"You can't have me yet."

"Who're you talking to, Cordelia?"

Cordelia shook her head again. She felt tired now. Her hand was locked in Misty's and her own heat had warmed it a bit, enough that it felt alive.

"I'm just waiting a little bit more."

Fiona got up from her chair and sat down on the floor beside Cordelia. Put her hand on top of hers, the one that held Misty's.

"I think this is enough waiting now, darling."

"No."

"Listen. Misty told me to tell you something, before she left. She wasn't sure she would make it and she wanted me to make sure you understood what this meant. She valued your happiness more than her own _life_. She really loved you. I think she always has. Christ, I was a fool for trying to stop her, but she always has, Cordelia. Right from the start. All she ever wanted was to make you happy. And sitting here won't get you there."

"She left me again."

"She didn't leave you, goddammit! She traded her life for your sanity!"

Cordelia wished she could make the trade back. But she had nothing to offer any god willing to make that trade. Papa Legba certainly wouldn't give her a second glance, if he could have Misty. Misty was supernatural, she wore her supremacy like an aura. Like the hum of warmth about her. Cordelia wished she could brand that hum onto her own skin, so that it would never leave. She was everything.

"Cordelia, look. I think I saw her chest rise. I think she's still breathing."

O0O

Darkness had never seemed so alive as the black space around Misty did. It was almost _breathing_. It lived. Something called to her from it, but she couldn't quite focus on it. And at the same time memories flickered across her mind, like broken leaves in the wind. She saw her eight year old self sit beside a young version of Cordelia, holding a hand to her burning cheek and Misty remembered she said the words: " _You can't get me sick, silly. I'm a self-healer."_ She remembered Cordelia had the flu and all she wanted to do even then, was to make her better.

But it wasn't Cordelia's voice she heard now.

The darkness took shape, birthed something. The colors changed, grew light enough for Misty to see the surroundings. It was a forest, her own swamp, but in darker colors and distorted by shade. The ground was crisp and withered, the branches cracked and bent out of shape. On a broken branch in the middle of a clearing sat a figure. Misty had never seen him before, but she knew who he was.

"Misty Day", Papa Legba said with his croaky, smoke roasted voice. He spoke with slow words and they had an echo of cadence to them. She neared and he tipped his black top hat at her. "Welcome."

Misty looked around. It wasn't her swamp after all. It looked like it, but there was no Stevie, no shack, no Nick. It was all grey and broken down. And dead.

"Am I dead?" She asked.

Papa Legba smiled. "You ain't much alive, darlin'." He followed her with his odd red eyes. His skin looked as crumbled and dead and the ground she stood on, his long jacket draped over the cracked tree, he sat on, like an all-consuming shadow.

Misty could feel it now, the absence of her usual energy, the absence of life in her being. Her whole body dragged her down, every limp felt like it was loaded with lead. It was suddenly unbearable to even stand, but she had a feeling sitting down would lose her the battle.

"I messed up, didn't I?" She said. "I wasn't supposed to die. I knew I would, when I did it, but I shouldn't have. Cordelia, she- I have to get back to her." Her pleading voice only made his smile grow wider.

"You could stay here. As you see, there be plenty of damage for you to fix. The gift of resurgence. You'd be real interestin' to keep down here."

"I can't stay here."

He chuckled, laughed his croaky laughter and his eyes had her nailed to the spot. "Who said you could leave? You might not even want to, if you take a look around. Don't it ache in your body to heal all this land? It's a job for all eternity."

She looked around the devastated swamp and it did ache. It screamed at her, it begged her, it pulled at her to sit down and put her hands to the ground. She wavered, swayed with the exhaustion. The wounded forest floor was right there, it would be the easiest thing in the world to sit down and rest.

"Maybe I could sit for a while. I'm real tired… But Cordelia..."

He shook his head, slowly and held up a hand. "No rush getting' back to your woman. I saw her. She about to come join us."

His threat shocked Misty's mind back to clarity. "What, _no_ , she can't do that!"

"Oh but she will. I extended my invitation and she said not _yet_. She only need little time."

Misty tried to breathe through the heaviness of her body. Cordelia couldn't go to this place, wherever that was. She needed to get back. Her muscles trembled, they tired more by the second, but Misty resisted the urge to seek relief.

"I ain't lettin' her put herself here with you. I won't have it."

"She headed for a black hole again, you know. She might not even be there when you return."

Misty shook her head. "That don't matter. I told her I'd never leave. So I won't."

Papa Legba stared at her for a long second. Then he shrugged. "See if you can find your way then. My offer stands. Goin' back might hurt you. I think you'd find there's no fightin' life down here. If you let your woman join us, life can't weigh you down no more."

"That's 'cause there ain't no life here. I'm leavin' now."

She turned before he could say more. She only heard him sigh, long and heavy, before the colors darkened and the shadows grew dense again. She remembered telling Cordelia that she was a self-healer. Now, as she rushed back into the dark, she prayed she hadn't been lying.

Suddenly it was everywhere. It knocked her off her feet and she fell. The blackness tore at her heavy body, pushed her down and then the wind caught her back. It held her up as the sensation of falling rushed through her body. Until it abruptly stopped. She was still.

Then the sounds started to come back.

There was a voice that she vaguely recognized, sharp and familiar, yet softer than she remembered it:

"There's more color in her cheeks now, isn't there?"

"Mother, please don't… If you're wrong, I just can't…" Cordelia's voice. This one she recognized without effort. It sounded so agonized, so tormented it ached in Misty's chest. She could barely feel her own body, but she could feel the ache. She wanted to open her eyes, to reach out and pull Cordelia close. Tell her to stop breaking her heart with those tears. But Misty's eyes were so heavy and her limbs carved of solid rock.

Still she tried. She fought to locate her arms and legs, her throat, her tongue, so she could speak.

The sounds got clearer. She could hear Cordelia's sniffles, she could sense her presence right by her side. She could feel her hand in her own now. It was warm against Misty's cold skin. She tried to move her hand, force it to respond to Cordelia's touch. She knew how awful it felt, when these gestures weren't returned.

She felt a tingle in her fingers and she heard Cordelia gasp.

"What happened?" Sharper. It must be Fiona.

She heard uneven breathing, the way Cordelia drew her breaths when she was on the verge of crying.

"Misty?" It was a fragile sound. There was so little hope in that voice, she couldn't endure it.

Misty forced herself to breathe. It felt like a bubble of air blocked her throat, choking down her breaths. She mobilized what strength she had to give and pushed a breath out of her throat, coughed the bubble out and drew a clean breath in. Finally, she opened her eyes. They stung like little fires, but through the blur, she started to see real colors.

The very first thing she saw was Cordelia and Misty immediately searched her eyes. They were red and the skin around them swollen, the circles underneath them were impossibly darker, but her eyes weren't empty anymore.

Misty smiled with relief and the grip around her fingers tightened.

"Misty? Misty, can you hear me?"

"Hey", she whispered. It was all she could manage. But it was enough.

" _Oh_ ", she heard Fiona exclaim. Tears welled up in Cordelia's eyes, but these were good tears, Misty knew that. With more effort, she made her hand turn around, return Cordelia's squeeze and the contact brought her home. She felt energy slowly return to her body, life flowing back into every corner and curve. She started to feel more than just her eyes and her hand. The other hand was there too now, her chest, her torso, even her legs. She felt whole again. Papa Legba and his dead swamp was but a glimpse of a feverish nightmare in the back of her mind.

Cordelia held a hand to her mouth and started sobbing. Her eyes held Misty's, wide and full of new hope as they searched.

"Are you- are you r-really here?" She asked between crying gasps.

"Yeah, I'm really here", Misty answered and watched a bit of light settle in Cordelia's gaze. Misty closed her eyes for just a second, held tight onto Cordelia's hand, when she protested. All the while trying to believe the words herself. She tried to sort it out. It seemed that even though her gift of life could be given away, it never quite left her. She took comfort in that and opened her eyes to the world again. She heard Cordelia breathe a sigh of relief.

It was all just a little brighter now. She remembered going away at night, but the beams of a morning sun crawled in through the window, reflecting droplets of a soft rain.

"Look, Delia, there's a sun shower outside."

Misty heard a broken, hoarse laughter from above and then Cordelia's lips crashed into hers. It was a kiss wet and salted with tears and Cordelia's grip on her face was so tight it hurt, but Misty didn't care. She managed to lift a hand to her face, stroke her cheek and wipe the tears away.

"I love you", Cordelia whispered in one ragged breath. Her entire body shook. Her fingers almost vibrated against Misty's skin. "I love you I love you I love you I love you."

"I love you too, darlin'."

"I- I told you to never scare me like that again!"

Misty ran her finger through Cordelia's hair, tugged it behind her ears, and watched her expression soften. "I'm sorry. I just wanted you to be okay again. I didn't know what else to do. But did it work? Where's Hank?"

A momentary shadow ghosted across Cordelia's face, but it was different, Misty noticed. It was a ghost of sadness, but not of guilt.

"It worked. But I told him to go. I didn't think I was going to make it out, if you… He's gone. It's just you and me now."

"Just like I always wanted it."

Cordelia nodded, her eyes serious and still wetted with tears. Her hand went down to rest against Misty's neck, fingers at her pulse, as if to make sure it was still there. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"I am now."

It took a moment before Cordelia accepted that. Then she offered her a hand and Misty used it for support to sit up. She still felt drained, possibly more drained than she ever had before, but she knew for sure that the worst was far behind her. Only now did she realize that she was in the living room of the Goode mansion, on the couch. By her head, in front of the armchair stood Fiona and watched her with a scrutinizing gaze. Shock was still frozen in her features, and Misty caught the light giving away tears at the corners of Fiona's eyes.

"Fiona, are you crying?"

She started, as if ripped out of a trance and did her usual scoff. "Please, I don't have tear ducts." She eyed Misty a second time and asked: "How are you feeling, kid?"

"Good." Their eye contact was brief, but Misty felt a warmth coming from it, which felt just a little less cold than it used to. She turned back to Cordelia. "Help me outside? I wanna see the rainbow."

Cordelia chuckled with disbelief and nodded. She reached an arm around Misty's waist and Misty grabbed her shoulders. Together they got up from the couch and though Misty swayed slightly, her knees threatening to buckle, she stayed up. Fiona came from the other side, held her steady as the three of them walked outside.

It was the most soothing rain Misty had ever felt. Light, like little kisses of cool water on her face. She smiled at it, clung to Cordelia and let herself be lead to the garden. Fiona let go and stayed back, as they turned around, looking for the colorful reflection in the sky.

"There it is", Cordelia said and pointed. Misty found it and stared. A wave of childish joy washed over her, as she watched the bow of colors draped over the sky, and she regained strength from it. The sun too. She turned back to Cordelia, hugged her close and then watched the sunlight bathe her face. It was a beautiful sight. It was reassuring seeing so much light in her features at last, sunlight or not.

"What is it?" Cordelia asked. Misty couldn't explain it. Instead, she leaned down and kissed her. She had weeks to make up for and Cordelia responded as if she had the exact same thought. Hands folded around her neck and pulled her closer. She felt Cordelia's breath on her lips, inhaled it, and it was the feeling of balance being restored.

Misty broke the kiss and hummed into the air between them. Light drops fell on their shoulders, but neither of them noticed anymore.

"It feels different now", Cordelia said. "Easier. I'm feeling less guilty I suppose."

"Somethin' else is different 'bout you too."

Cordelia smiled. "Of course you would now. I'm pregnant. I think… I think maybe you fixed me."

Misty put her hand to Cordelia's stomach, snuck it underneath her clothes and she felt it again. Vibrant skin. She realized now what it was she had felt earlier: It was new life that she touched, hidden away right behind Cordelia's skin.

When she found Cordelia's eyes, Misty was at loss for words. But it didn't matter. She only flashed her widest grin and said nothing. She knew Cordelia understood.

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 **A/N: Now we have only a tiny epilogue left! You didn't really think I was going to off Misty, did you? ;)**


	31. Chapter 31

**Epilogue**

It was a mess of blood and stern voices and figures rushing by. Her fingers were almost crushed by Cordelia's hand, gripping them so tight. Cordelia's whole body was shaking and it transferred through that touch into Misty. There was a smell, Misty could never quite put her finger on, sterile as hospitals always were, but with an organic taste, which lingered with her. Neither of them said a word, Cordelia's panting breaths were returning to normal, but no words came over her lips. They were both caught in a limbo, waiting, watching the scene. The figures, all covered in scrubs and concentrated faces and Cordelia's blood, gathered in one end of the room, like a shield, mumbling and gesturing with instruments.

And then, a moment of gasping silence.

Until the cry.

It was the tiniest, most fragile, infant sound Misty had ever heard. Yet it was so full of life. It spoke to her in the most direct way, hit her in the chest and clenched an infant fist around her heart. But she didn't want it to let go. Never. This fist didn't hurt, it only made her feel giddy.

"The baby's healthy, Delia, I can feel it. You did it."

Cordelia closed her eyes and let her head fall back. She smiled through the exhaustion and gave Misty's hand a gentler squeeze. Misty lifted Cordelia's hand up and kissed it.

"You did good, baby."

Cordelia opened her eyes again and looked up at Misty. Her face was glimmering with sweat, her hairline wet and her body the picture of bone-deep exhaustion, but her eyes shone with life. The same as that cry, which still danced around the room, only now subsiding.

"I wasn't scared, not one bit. Because I knew that if anything went wrong, you were there to fix us."

Misty smiled at her and opened her mouth to speak, when one of the nurses emerged from the shield of scrubs.

"Are you ready to meet your baby?" Both women looked at her, but only briefly, because the tiny creature in her arms stole their attention right away. "He's a healthy baby boy."

The nurse stepped close to the bed and Misty moved to give her space, as she handed Cordelia her newborn son. She placed him in Cordelia's waiting embrace, against her naked skin and Cordelia stared at the little boy as if she had never seen anything quite so miraculous. Misty squeezed her shoulder, for a moment just as mesmerized. Then she bent down and tapped at the boy's pink cheek with her finger.

"Hey, baby boy", she said.

Cordelia's chest heaved as she tried to stifle her crying. Tears rolled out of her eyes and landed softly on the baby's stomach. Then the faintest chuckle came out of her mouth and she looked up to meet Misty's gaze.

"I don't think I've ever been this happy", she said. The conviction with which she said it and the light in her eyes made Misty feel like her heart was too big for her chest. It beat out of rhythm, it swelled inside her body. Only the infant fist kept it in place, as she bent down and kissed Cordelia.

"I love you", she whispered into her face. She whispered, because she wanted nothing to disturb this moment, not even the sound of a loud declaration of love. Because it wasn't needed. Cordelia finally understood, finally embraced it and it was with a convincing smile that she whispered it back.

O0O

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 **A/N: That was it for my story! I thank you all so much for reading it and I hope I lived up to the foxxay expectations. Thank you so much to all of you who have commented and kept me going. Reading that has been my favorite part of the day. Special thanks to nokhnia for sticking with me from the very beginning, you know I appreciate all your comments and thoughts.**

 **Now I have a confession to make: I don't feel like I'm done with these two. And I have some ideas to work with for a sequel, which involves a foxxay baby (obviously), Marie Laveau and possibly some voodoo. So this piece right here can either be the epilogue or it can be teaser for a new story – so I want to ask you guys, if you're interested in reading more? I have some original stuff to work on for a while, but if you are, I might come back to it. That's all, thanks again for all your support! Great day to you all :)**


	32. Author's note

**A/N: Hey guys! I'm just here to say that I have finally started to post the sequel, which is named "Taken by the Wind". You can find the first chapter on my page tonight. I didn't mean for it to take this long, I swear, but I had some pretty extensive case of writer's block and it made quite the roadblock for me. But now I'm back in the game and the foxxay journey is not over yet. I hope you'll still like to give it a chance.**

 **Peace out :)**


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